Every morning we watch her climb out of bed after the familiar chime of her alarm. She comes straight to us, kneeling on the floor. With seriousness and great care, she rustles us and places us in new positions.

She arranges our possessions gently to spaces suited for this next glorious day.

We hear her mother call her from downstairs. Something about pancakes and something called syrup. On occasion she touches us with her sticky fingers and we long to taste what makes her so happy on those mornings.

We loved our Ellie from the first day we met her. What a pretty thing! She wears the most darling gowns of pale pink, white, and powder blue, always adorned with lace and elegance. We never set eyes on a prettier sight.

We used to live in a dark room. No little girl ever touched us or our friends until one day what Ellie calls her “family” rescued us from a trash heap after many years alone. She tells us often we are her favorite birthday gift. She speaks of us to visitors who come to see our vivid colors of greens and blues and our grand designs unmatched. We truly are a spectacle while keeping modest.

On most days of the week Ellie leaves to go somewhere. We sit for hours untouched except for when Juniper her calico cat decides to come in and lick us. Juniper is a peculiarity. Sometimes she scatters us around the room. Eventually Ellie always returns and the reunion is so sweet! She sets us back where we belong thankfully.

One of our favorite games to play is sharing secrets. Ellie tells us everything. When she’s sad or upset with someone at her school, we hear about it. When she can’t get her letters written right, she cries to us. When she’s excited, we know it before anyone else. It’s a special bond we have.

One day though all this changed and we all are still puzzled.

The worse happened on a very rainy morning. It stormed all night and Ellie woke up to come visit with us in the middle of the night, seeking our comfort. Tears streamed down her rosy soft cheeks between sniffing and fake smiling to try to console herself. She did not look happy or her usual bubbly self. We sensed something wrong.

This time it wasn’t just the storm scaring her.

That morning, she awoke on the floor in front of us, got dressed hurriedly, forgetting our daily rituals and routines together. Without a word she ran downstairs leaving the room with her long caramel brown hair flowing behind her.

Ellie never came home.

A shadow came in a few days later in the night and rapidly dug through her dresser drawers throwing items in a bag. With sadness, we watched them shut the door behind them as they left.

We continue to wait many many days and months later. Maybe it’s years. We’ve lost count. No one comes to visit us. Not even our Juniper.

Where’s Ellie? Where’s Juniper?

We have a feeling, but how can we know for sure? We must find a way out of here to search for our Ellie. No one knows her secrets as well as we do after all. She needs us.