Sammy!

Elizabeth knew she was a lonely girl. The family house was far from any neighborhood, her grouchy brother never left his room, and she stopped trying to win the affection of her parents long ago. Most of her days she spent inside, playing dolls by herself, burning through her coloring books and spending long hours staring at the ceiling. She hated the way weekend hours dragged, and every week she couldn't wait to go back to her classes on Monday.

At school her teachers told her all sorts of wonderful things: that she was a model student, a go-getter, a smart cookie. She was the student who got to brag about her grades, who always raised her hand higher than the rest, who never vandalized the bathrooms or stole from the pencil drawer. She did everything she could to be the center of attention. And she deserved it, right? I mean, who else in the class could spell words way above their grade level?

She could have made tons of friends, but the problem was that they never stayed. Time and time again she found a group of kids who accepted her, played with her for a few recesses, then tossed her out of the group like a rag. Why didn’t her peers like her? It made no sense. It had to be because they’re stupid, or cruel, or jealous. These rationalizations stung. In reality, she knew she was lying to herself. The other kids told her she was annoying. They said that she tried too hard to control their games. She knew that, whatever the problem was, it had to be something with her. Something on the inside.

At the end of the day, though, at least she had her father. It wasn’t him who excited her, but rather his job. Every now and again, he drove her to his underground workshop, where the air was suffocating and the rooms were so still you could hear pipes creaking in the walls. It wasn’t any less lonely than home or school, but the change of scenery was welcome. Besides, she was enchanted by the things her father built, even if she wasn't allowed to touch them.

Enter Dad's newest project: Circus Baby. Dad told Elizabeth all sorts of things about her – that she can sing, blow balloons, make ice cream, and that one day she’ll be on a stage covered in glitter and ribbons. Elizabeth was in awe. She sounded extraordinary! There was a catch, though. Elizabeth wasn’t allowed to see her. No one was, really, except for the few employees who received authorization to do so. And so Elizabeth sat in the hallways of her father's workshop while he worked in a back room. Bored. Alone. And deeply curious.

Months passed, and the project still was not finished. Sometimes Elizabeth overheard employee gossip about Baby. They said that she was ugly – creepy, even – and a huge waste of time and resources. They said that she might never be finished, that no one would buy her, and she would never perform. Well, that can’t be true, Elizabeth thought. How could something capable of such amazing talents be so unwanted? They kept Circus Baby in a room that was isolated from the rest of the workshop. Did she get lonely? Would it hurt her to know the things that people said about her? Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel empathetic towards Baby’s situation, and her curiosity grew.

So, eventually, Elizabeth decides to disobey her father. She wanders around the facility and finds the room. It’s cold and drab, the lights are off, and Circus Baby sits slumped on a bench. She looks tired, Elizabeth thinks. She looks like she could use a friend. So Elizabeth sits with her. She tells Baby about all the wonderful things she’s heard about her. She asks Baby if she gets lonely in her room, if Dad is like a father to her, and what she would do if she could speak to him. It’s all a bit silly, really. Elizabeth knows that Circus Baby is inanimate. But… it feels nice to have someone to talk to. Here, in this little room, is someone who will finally listen to her. She decides that Baby isn’t all that creepy, and promises to come see her again.

So the visits continue. Time and time again Elizabeth finds ways to slip under her father’s nose, and every time she heads straight for her only friend. She tells Circus Baby all sorts of things about her life, about her grouchy brother, her busy parents, her ignorant classmates. She wishes Baby could respond, but it’s okay if she doesn’t. They’re not too different, after all.