Calliope and her newest friend Jewel stampeded down the hallway and then a flight of stairs, with every bell in their shoes and hats jingling and jangling like Christmas time. The idea that they may wake up whoever might be home never crossed either of their silly clown minds. They bounded through the kitchen and then the living room, using the slim moonlight to gimble around the obstacles in their way. Their pink pursuer, however, never saw the footstool in her path and the chase came to a crashing end.
The jesters, however, didn't hear this and followed their heart's desire that led them to the house's basement. Calliope felt perfectly fine in the pitch darkness, which after all would make it easier to hide. But Jewel's slightly less wooden mind thought to flip the light switch and the world popped into existence in a bright shower of lights. Jewel was quick to see they were in a playroom, but one that was more colorful and cheery than the one upstairs. It had multiple playsets around the walls, for dolls big and small.
It was almost like a house unto itself, with a fake kitchen, doll living room, and a fluffy bed. But the colors on the wood had all faded, part in age and part in the layer of dust covering them. Wood paneling around the walls and thick shag carpeting further revealed the age of the room.
"What room is this?" Jewel asked.
"Don't know. Never been outta tha' playroom, miself." Calliope answered, though she seemed perfectly at home at the fake sink preparing a tea set. "Would you think it too late for tea?" She asked, walking the cups to a round table at the heart of the room.
"Have I ever said no to you, Calliope?" Jewel said, sitting her slender frame on a too-small chair across from her host.
The jester giggled, "I guess that makes me your owner."
"How so? I just like to make you happy. I'm not a slave or anything."
"I'm no slave, neither. Imma toy. I do whatever my owner says to make 'im happy; and since you never say no to me. . ."
Sitting so close to Calliope, Jewel could clearly see the wood grain running tracks through her painted face. "That's funny; a human being owned by a doll." Jewel's hand fell to her leg, where she felt a long discarded pillow, which she tightly gripped in her hand and before she took a second thought, swung at her twin doll. Calliope reacted with a startled giggle and jumped out of her seat.
The green jester ran to the bed and started to get a pillow weapon of her own, but Jewel bowled her over and the clowns fell giggling to the bed. The jesters looked face to face to each other, and Jewel noticed her twin's face was softer now and the grain in her wood was almost imperceptible. She even felt soft and shallow breaths on her skin, and Calliope's once bright red dots looked more like natural pink blush.
Curious, Jewel stroked her twin's cheek, which felt more like flesh than wood. Calliope's smile turned in a way her wooden face shouldn't have allowed. "Kiss me." She said. Of course, Jewel couldn't say no . . .
Parker cradled her left ankle in her arms; it and her right knee had taken the worst of her stunning fall to the ground. Her gentle massage wore the pain down, but years of ballet training told Parker her ankle was just lying to her and the pain would explode once again as soon as she put her weight on it, light as she was.
The ballerina laid her head against the traitorous footstool that had befallen her. The night had been so promising. But Coppelia had never danced, Emily seemed to have gone native, Ryan was a jerk; and now with a bruised knee and ankle, Parker knew she was to be caught. And she had a strange feeling that it would not be good for her to be caught while wearing a toy's costume. But she wouldn't leave her best friend and boyfriend to whomever owned the house and its precious dolls, and so resigned to wait in the living room until someone came to find her.
And someone did find her. Parker heard the stranger's presence, quiet as it was. She only heard a light swish through the air and the soft deliberate steps of ballerina feet. She gasped as moonlight struck Coppelia's glittering tutu, which sparkled blue in the moon's light. She stepped as if her movements were charted by a master choreographer; there was not a trace of mechanical timing to her precise movements and perfect rhythms.
"Coppelia . . ." Parker whispered. A warm laugh came from the doll's throat as she approached and knelt down to Parker's side.
"Come with me." The doll took Parker by the hand, and her touch banished all the pain in her body. The ballerina's got up and softly walked in lock step up the stairs and to a room on the other side of the hallway. Each danced there in identical steps. The room they entered was dark, but Coppelia found a lamp to turn on; its soft light never touched the door, but managed to reveal a conflicted room; partly filled with pink trinkets and ballet slippers and partly filled with posters of hot movie stars and musicians from ten years ago.
There were two pictures on the dresser. One was of a Ballerina slipping her slippers on backstage, in legwarmers and a t-shirt in a studio. She wasn't looking at the camera, but laughing at something out of frame. The other picture was of a student with backpack slung over her shoulder and glasses, wearing jeans and tennis shoes. They looked like two entirely different people, but Parker knew they were the same.
"My father never liked those pictures because they weren't perfect. They weren't of a demure ballerina en pointe in a perfect pink tutu." Coppelia looked down sadly. "He built a perfect house, married a perfect wife, had a perfect daughter who was a perfect ballerina. He gave her all these perfect toys. But when his perfect daughter tried to become a real girl . . ." The doll let her words hang in the air. ". . . he went mad."
Coppelia stood up and turned Parker around so they were both facing the mirror. It was strange the way they looked so much alike. The doll looked rather like a human and Parker looked rather like a doll. She noticed the strong pink circles on her cheeks; circles she had never put on.
"What's happening to me?"
"You're disturbing every twine of magic in the air in this place, Parker. And if you stay, you'll become just like me. You'll be turned into a doll. You have to leave now, or you will never be able to leave."