Chapter Text
The sky was dark – cloudy and dull – fog filled the vacant spaces within the velvet darkness of the trees. The field Sofie found Barbie in wasn’t too far from her house. It had been abandoned property for years – and Barbie’s memories highlighted the lot of them spending their evenings and late nights there.
“Barbie?”
She snapped out of her daze.
“Oh, Sofie.”
“Am I interrupting anything?”
“...You’re not...you can join me if you’d like.” She offered quietly.
So, Sofie did. She sat next to Barbie in the tall grass of the barren field.
“Sometimes it isn’t so bad being alone,” Sofie started. “I come here still...often, actually.”
“...It’s quiet.”
“It is.”
A moment of silence passed as the air was a still breeze and the ocean roared. They could see the water from the slope of the hill where they sat.
“It’s true when I say I’ve missed you. I have Donnie – but we’re both so busy all the time.”
Barbie looked at her curiously.
“You’ve mentioned memories...say, how many memories have come back to you?”
Barbie hesitated to answer for a moment.
“Most of them. The most important ones, I believe.”
“...Any of me?”
“...Many of you.”
“Good, I hope?”
“I would consider them good.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
Another brief silence.
“Are you...disappointed?” Barbie asked, directing her gaze back toward the sea.
“Disappointed about what, Barbie?”
“Disappointed in what you see.”
Sofie’s heart dropped. Is that what she thought? She didn’t know the whole story. Not even close. But she didn’t want her thinking that about herself.
“Why would I be disappointed?”
“...What do you see?”
Sofie thought for a moment that it might’ve been a trick question, what Barbie had asked.
“I see you.”
“What about me?”
“You’ve grown.”
“Not a lot.”
“You’ve changed.”
Barbie was silent.
“People change. You changed. But you’re still you. You’re still Barbie.”
“I don’t really feel like anyone.”
“Tell me...tell me a memory. Something you’ve remembered that makes you happy.”
“Makes me happy?”
“Yeah. Something you’ve remembered recently.”
“Well...it was so long ago now. Do you remember when your brother got pulled underwater as the waves came in?”
Sofie smiled.
Because ordinarily, that’s horrifying. And it was, in the moment, all those years ago.
“I do, I thought I’d never see him again, but the ocean puked him up ten seconds later.”
Barbie scoffed in amusement at Sofie’s choice of words.
“It’s funny looking back on it.” Sofie continued, picking at random blades of grass.
“That’s a good start. Now...tell me about a memory from recently that makes you happy. Before you remembered your life here.”
A happy memory from recently? Out of all the things – Barbie thought that maybe Sofie would find it all quite stupid.
“...Seeing Mistress Barbara smile.”
That’s all she chose to say.
Barbie knew that she didn’t have to refer to Barbara as her mistress anymore – but it was more for her own sake that she said it like she did. Like that final sentence was closure; reassurance.
“We...we both made it to adulthood.”
Words she thought she’d never say.
Now that she’s said it out loud-
“That probably sounds strange.”
Sofie, a look rooted in empathy on her face, shook her head slowly. Her eyes were glassy.
“That’s not strange at all.”
And Barbie believed her.
“Can I tell you something I haven’t told anyone?”
“...Of course.”
“I didn’t see myself making it this far either.”
Barbie didn’t want to, but she felt hot hot tears down her face. Her expression didn’t change, she just felt quiet tears.
“Who knew, right?” Sofie’s tears started up after Barbie’s did – she hadn’t even noticed.
“’Just one more day’ has gotten me through a lot of days.”
Sofie was shaking, but Barbie didn’t ask why – she, too, felt herself trembling. Perhaps it was a deep rooted fear they both felt in one another’s understanding, or maybe it was the cold air of coastal dusk.
Sofie felt as if nothing else needed to be said in that moment – silence carried them away into a peaceful place. Rather, Sofie wrapped her arms around Barbie’s upper torso, making the girl flinch slightly. A moment later, Barbie leaned into her touch, resting her head on Sofie’s shoulder.
They weren’t crying anymore, they weren’t talking anymore – just the two of them in temporary solitude. The air didn’t taste as salty as it did before, but the sky was darker, and the lanterns by the house were dimly lit. It was quiet.