by Joy Cressler

Created on: July 31, 2008

Sister Belle

People may think it's strange for a doll to have a soul but I don't, because I have one, and I don't feel one bit strange. My name is Sister Belle and I am model #4177. I wasn't the first Sister Belle, but I was made during the years when Sister Belles were most in demand.
I admit I don't know how I got a soul, but I believe that I am the only Sister Belle to have one. All the other Sister Belles just sit there, their big eyes peeking in various directions, depending upon which way they are reposed. Like me, they are always smiling. On second thought, maybe the other dolls have souls, too, trapped inside plastic skulls

like mine.
I start noticing brain activity after the factory worker screws on my head and fastens it with a strong vinyl connector. Another pair of hands tie a bow at the back of my dress and throws me down a long black rubber belt. A whistle blows and the belt slows to a stop. The factory people start leaving, the lights are dimmed, and the place quiets for the night. A bare light bulb burns brightly overhead, encased in a metal frame that casts all the light
downward. Even though it's dark in the rest of the factory, it's bright in my sanctuary. I've landed upright inside a shiny steel bin. Two other dolls lie face down in the corner opposite me. The way my eyes are tilted, I can see my reflection in the wall of the bin, a remarkably clear reflection for me to enjoy for the night. Since a soul has just entered my body a few minutes ago, I cannot stop looking at myself.
My face is hard plastic - almost like hollow steel. My oval eyes are frozen in a constant expression of surprise. My eyes peer to the left and have a thick line of black lashes
painted across the tops. My little red mouth curves into a smile and my fat cheeks are dusted with a rosy blush. I have hair of yellow yarn pulled across my plastic skull into a little ponytail at the crown. My body is made of heavy red cotton fabric. I have a pear-shaped torso, packed hard with stuffing so my bottom is flat enough to sit up with minimal toppling. My dress is made of black and white striped cotton mattress ticking, adorned with cute little
pockets made of red material cut out in the same shape as my mitten hands.
Inside my head is a machine. It's what I use to make little girls think I'm talking to them. Coming out of the side of my neck is a cord with a white plastic loop at the end for
little girls to hook their fingers through and pull out in a straight motion to get me to talk.

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