Lola and the Doll

Golden glitter rained down on the fragile doll, caught in the twists and flares of her spiky red hair. Sliding across her tan arms, some came to rest in the ridges of her gauzy orange dress. Two flashy yellow eyes were deftly painted onto her giddy face, and a small, gleaming ruby was carefully lodged over her heart.

The tired old man wiped his brow and set down his tools. Looking over his creation, he could see nothing wrong. The doll's thin limbs were posed as if mid-leap, graceful and dangerous. Satisfied, he lifted the delicate figure and set her back on the shelf. As he did so, he let out a long sigh.

At the sound, a small child came scurrying into the room, her wild brown curls bouncing behind her like an ocean wave of coffee. Peeking up at the desk from tip-toe, she marveled at the completed addition to her grandfather's collection.

"Papi, what is that one?"

The old man lifted her onto his stool and pointed gently. "That's a fire sprite. They're very beautiful creatures, but they only hurt people."

The girl's large green eyes remained fixed on the new toy. "Why would she hurt people? She looks really happy."

"Fire sprites live only in flame. They will burn through anything and everything without even noticing."

"Can I play with her?"

The grandfather looked over the girls rapt features, mild concern creasing his aged face. "Perhaps when you're older." It was the answer he knew she hated most and heard most often. "Time for bed, lovely. Up we go."

Swiftly, the girl was lifted from her seat and tucked into the smaller bed in the corner of the room. Nestled in with her teddy bear, the old man kissed her on the forehead, pretending not to see her pout. "Sweet dreams, child."

Within minutes, the grandfather was fast asleep and snoring in his own bed across from the workbench. In practiced silence, the girl slid out from under her covers and climbed slowly back up onto the stool. Scowling at the gleeful doll, she pulled her from the shelf, glitter scattering everywhere. A few flecks drifted towards the nearby candle, bursting into magnificent flame upon contact with the burning wick.

Surprised, the little girl stared at the candle for a moment. Slowly looking back to the doll, she was met with the strangely blissful features that seemed almost to beckon for the candle's warmth. Her tiny brow furrowing, the girl carried the doll over to the tiny fire, and as the tip of her dress caught the flame, her form flickered into life.

Stretching with joy, the sprite eyed the little girl. "Thank you for saving me from my prison."

The little girl smiled widely. "You really are real. Will you play a game with me?"

The sprite grinned back. "I'm afraid I don't play well with others. But I like to dance...would you care to watch?" The girl nodded enthusiastically, and stood entranced as the sprite began to twirl on the desk. It was only as she noticed the burning hole below the sprite that she began to show concern.

"Stop it. You're ruining Papi's workbench."

The sprite stopped twirling and squinted narrowly at the child. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I've been a terrible guest. Allow me to take my leave." She lunged onto the child's head, setting her brown locks ablaze, and crashed through the window. At the sound, Papi awoke and scurried over to his granddaughter. He swiftly doused the flames on her head, but most of her hair had already disintegrated. As the child looked up, her crying eyes shined a burnt yellow where emerald had dwelt only moments before.