Bryanna Robles

La Última Muñeca

Everything was perfect. 

The high-ceiling ballroom glittered from the lavender and white lights as leisured bolero beats blared across the guests' polished shoes and manicured feet. Her floor-length ball gown bedazzled with amethyst jewels on her chest and near the hem of her dress, perfectly accentuated the hooked curve of her back and behind, the perked roundness of her fully developed breasts, and cinched her protruding stomach into a slim figure. Her curled noir hair, a touch of blush on her cheeks, lilac eyeshadow, and a perfect cat eye to sharpen her look. Everything that transformed her from an average teenager to an alluring young woman remained flawless all throughout Mass. She even recited that aburrido verso de 1 Juan 4:20 Mamá selected with precise pronunciation and pretend integrity. 

The constant fantasies she daydreamed of her Quinceañera became a blissful reality. And now, as she sat in a chair in the middle of an empty dance floor, surrounded by tipsy family members and patient friends, her charming Chambelan, Celestino Avila, stood in position as the DJ announced the commitment of la última muñeca ceremony. 

When his name was called and cheered on like wedding bells by the crowd, he approached her, stopping close enough to see his faded freckles against his bronzed complexion and highlighted hazel eyes. 

¡Qué guapo! 

Even as an eccentric kid who occasionally ate dirt and chased girls around the playground dangling worms or beetles in their faces, she always noticed his golden beauty hidden underneath his shaggy, inky-black hair. 

For eight years, she had waited for this day. For him to be donning a classic black-and-white suit with an orchid-colored bowtie kissing his collar and a matching handkerchief poking out of his pocket. For her to receive his longing gaze and curled lips showing off those pearly whites. For this one breathless second when time blinked, and everything stopped, allowing her the chance to stitch this scene of him into her heart forever.

When she inhaled again, Celestino raised his arms and revealed a 16-inch porcelain doll outfitted with a periwinkle, too-poofy frock, stiff, permed hair, and eerie, glossed eyes.

Had she known Tía Sabrina would select such an ugly doll, she would have chosen the teddy bear instead. Would she get in trouble if she had Papá escort Tía Sabrina out of her party? 

But then, her anger ceased when she reached for the doll and felt that electric brush between hers and Celestino’s fingers. They smiled stupidly, stumbling over each other’s whispered apologies. 

As she settled the doll into her lap, Celestino stepped away. She almost reached out to stop him. Every moaning muscle and searing vein in her arm desired to keep him by her side, but she assured herself that there were still plenty more dances left to relish his crimson pine fragrance again. 

Following the schedule, the DJ announced Papá. 

He stepped forward, revealing a sterling silver, jewel-studded tiara, and placed it on her head. ¡Gracias a Dios, the tiara was not ugly too! 

 “Siempre serás mi princesa,” he said, pressing a scratchy kiss on her forehead before melting back into the crowd.          

Finally, the DJ announced Mamá. 

She click-clacked forward in her kitten heels and revealed an Anna Kay & Co. wisteria-colored stilettos glistening with glitter and butterfly wings extending from the heels. (Obviously, she picked these herself!)

Mamá dropped to her knees and lifted her daughter's skirt to expose the white Nike sneakers she had been wearing all day. She began to cry as she untied her daughter's shoes, babbling nonsense about "qué hermosa se veía mi hija" y "no puede creer que mi bebé haya crecido tan rapido." The clicking, flashing cameras prevented her daughter from rolling her eyes, hissing at her, "por favor, deja de avergonzarse." After removing her shoes and socks, Mamá sniffled and slid the stilettos onto her daughter's feet. Then she arose and hoisted her daughter onto her elevated feet.

Mamá caressed her daughter’s cheek and hugged her. 

“Te amo mi preciousa niña,” Mamá cried too loudly in her ear. 

Finally letting go, she stepped aside for everyone in the banquet hall to marvel at the complete transformation of Estrella Muñez into womanhood.

Estrella was ecstatic with butterflies and euphoric from the Malibu rum her cousin snuck into the limo. Dios, Budda, whatever mythological creature the internet claimed created the universe; Scorpio season, the retrograde sun was in motion, the star gods were in her favor, pure luck, unwavering faith, her parents and extended family's wallets, Estrella could commend any of those things for today's excellence. 

But why should she? This was her day, her party, and with the expectation of that ugly ass doll, she ensured everything was as pretty and perfect as the fantasies she imagined while everyone else was lazing about, unwilling to help her with even the tiniest of tasks like sending invitations.

Who were half of these people anyway? Supposed extended family from Colombia, old church friends she prayed to never see again, fucking Abuelita’s Bible study group! If she had not been so preoccupied with cake tastings and precise, purple-flower arrangements, she would have made a DO NOT ADMIT list.

Cálmate, Estrella, sighed through grinning teeth. Nadie a vomitado ni comenzado una discusión. Todavía te ves increíble y Celestino estaba observando totalmente. Solamente sobreviva el resto de la noche y todo será—

“¡Atención, ahora es el momento de que la quinceañera regale su última muñeca!” The DJ hollered above the cacophony of the crowd. 

Mierda, right… 

Truthfully, Estrella had forgotten about this part despite rehearsing it a few days ago standing where she currently stood—however, wearing cookie monster pajama pants and a black tank top—improvising a small speech she had yet to contemplate about the person she chose for the honor of receiving her última muñeca. Estrella then eyed the table reserved for her central family; with guidance from Mamá, her little sister slugged forward, forcibly and painfully smiling as if fishing hooks were lifting the corners of her mouth. 

Since the doll was absent at the time, Estrella pretended to give her sister an imaginary doll, to which her sister reciprocated by accepting said imagination before dropping her hands immediately and withdrawing back to the table.

“¿Qué tal un abrazo?” Mamá proposed.

“¡No!” Estrella and her sister yelled in unison. 

This was Mamá’s wish, not Estrella’s. If it were up to her, she would have chosen her sobrina, Yesenia. Barely a year old, yet much less maddening than her sister. Unfortunately, since Estrella chose the shoes, Mamá chose the recipient.  

“¡Está bien! Pero si ustedes las dos no se abrazan durante la ceremonia, yo mismo las obligaré.”

This was how it was supposed to go. 

The crowd subsided. Estrella glanced towards the family table, spotting Mamá kneeling before her, disinterested and distracted by the mauve-hued ribbon resting atop her solar plexus little sister. 

Estrella did love her sister. There were days when their dysfunction paused, permitting brief interactions of friendlessness and even playfulness while building sandcastles on the beach or walking to the nearest Michoacana to share a mango with chamoy mangonada. There were minutes when memories of stuffed animal tea parties resurfaced and seconds when scenes of late-night movie marathons of Ramona and Beezus and Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants flashed in Estrella’s mind… 

“Tengo a Bridget!” her little sister exclaimed, showing Estrella the quiz results on her laptop.

They were in Estrella's room, kicking back on her bed like kitties, painting their nails while taking online quizzes to prescribe their personalities. With a scowl, Estrella shifted the laptop onto her lap, taking care not to damage her heliotrope-purple nails. 

As her sister grimaced, Estrella said, “Vuelvo a hacer el examen.” 

“¿No te gusta Tibby?” 

“Si, pero preferiría tener a Lena. Tenemos mucho en común, como que somos tímidas y bonitas—” 

“Eres muy gallina para invitar a salir a Celestino,” Her sister squealed como un feo burro. 

Biting back a smile, Estrella playfully pushed her sister. “Eso es exactamente algo que diría Bridget.” 

Memories like those always warmed the iciest parts of herself into puddles, reiterating the happy times shared between them and reminding Estrella why she eventually accepted the prospect of handing over her última muñeca to her little sister. 

That was until this morning. 

They were supposed to be out the door at the tick of noon for Mass. Papá was already waiting in the car, likely playing Candy Crush on the tablet he wasn’t supposed to bring; Mamá was rambling on her phone, reiterating directions of the church to lost relatives, while scrambling up and down between the kitchen and her little sister’s room, retrieving her plum-colored shoes and cardigan, and urging her to finish eating and wait in the car. 

Then, there was Estrella, dressed, styled, and powdered prime, ripping her room apart, searching for the golden bracelet she bought for Celestino, matching the one adorned on her wrist. 

She had planned it for weeks: after the fifteenth candle ceremony, Estrella would lure Celestino into the reception hall towards a serene and secluded spot where she would present the bracelet and finally confess her feelings for him. The thought tripped her heart and fluttered her giddy into pure jubilance. The bracelet was supposed to be on her nightstand on a ceramic heart-shaped plate hidden underneath her violet earrings and necklace. But while she clipped on her jewelry, she realized the bracelet was gone.

“¡Vamos Estrella!” Mamá yelled from the hallway. “Vamos a llegar tarde.” 

“¡En un segundo, Mamá!” Estrella replied, panic hitching in her voice. 

There was no way she would leave the house without that bracelet. The shimmering sheen of that bracelet held all her high hopes and even higher nerves, all her midnight fantasies and fanciful bouts of confidence. Without it, she would make an absolute fool of herself. 

“¿Qué haces?” 

Estrella spun around to see her little sister standing in the doorway with her hands hidden behind her back, dressed in an electric purple dress that burned the eyes and buzzed the brain if viewed for too long. 

“Nada,” Estrella hissed. “Ve a esperar en el carro.”

She did not move; a wicked smile curled her lips. “Bien. Iré a esperar en el coche con mi nuevo brazalete de oro.”

Her little sister raised her arm, revealing the golden bracelet loosely dangling off her wrist (despite being locked on the first chain loop). That mocosa! 

“Dani, dame el brazalete,” Estrella demanded, holding out her hand.

Dani stepped back, gently jerking her arm as if Estrella were a cat seeking to swipe a feather off a stick. 

 “Dame el brazalete antes de que te arranque el brazo.”

Dani bolted down the stairs. Estrella swore under her breath, hiked up her dress, and rushed after Dani. The sisters had previously pulled pranks on each other, but this went too far! She was going to kill Dani; Mamá better let it slide because today was her birthday. 

As Estrella approached the lowest step, Mamá hurried out of the kitchen, startling her mother and prompting her to yelp like a kicked chihuahua. It would have been funny if Estrella were not consumed by murderous fury. 

“¿Por qué estás corriendo— oi!” Mamá yelled, covering the speaker of her phone.

Estrella proceeded past her and approached the doorway, where she spotted Dani skipping over the dewed front lawn toward the car, circling her arms in the air como un pájaro tonta who did not know how to fly. Estrella groaned, unwilling to walk outside in her chanclas, huffing like a barbaric bull. She opened her mouth, but before she could threaten Dani again, her little sister stumbled backward and forward before catching her balance against the side of the car. 

“¡Por poco!” Dani giggled. She then looked at her wrist, the gap between the car and the curb, and the grass behind her before facing Estrella with a knowing frown of imminent calamity. 

Mamá forbade Estrella from ripping off her dress and searching every inch of the grounds for the bracelet; she forbade her from tearing her sister apart on the drive to the church, choosing to sit in the back while Estrella puffed like an iris-hued, balloon flower in the front. She attempted to soothe Estrella's scornful expressions by assuring her that Dani did not intend to lose the bracelet on purpose and that they could always buy a new one. 

But a replacement would not be the same! The money spent to buy that bracelet was from numerous birthdays and Christmases, intending to give it to Celestino on this special day when he was always by her side, ready to take her hand. 

Yes. Everything was perfect, but it could have been better if Danielle had not ruined it. 

Everyone was waiting for Estrella's speech; to hand over the damn doll to Dani so they could continue drinking their minds fuzzy and gossiping their ears off. Her mother would tell her to set aside what occurred this morning for a moment of sisterly warmth, even if it was artificial. Then, a vocal tonality kindred to Dani's slipped into Estrella's ear, whispering,

Una manzana venenosa sigue siendo venenosa aunque sea muy dulce. 

The words punctured her ear like a cotton swab. Concealing her ear and glancing around, Estrella readied to scowl at Dani for sneaking onto the dance floor earlier than she was supposed to. Yet, Estrella was alone. Alone and bathed under a bright spotlight, ringed by dust motes descending like butterflies onto a bed of leather flowers. Alone, with an ugly doll in her arm. 

Bitterness rivaled expectancy, etiquette, and tranquility. Lowering her arm, Estrella conjured a womanly posture: laxed shoulders, a lifted chin, and batted eyes. No one was going to rebuke her for her revenge. 

“He decidido que me voy a quedar con la muñeca para mí,” Estrella announced, retaining a cool demeanor. “Después de todo, es la última. ¿Por qué no aferrarme a los últimos recuerdos de mi infancia?”

There was silence and shock, of course, but Estrella maintained her posture, clutching the doll like the Holy Bible. Finally, the guests started clapping; flashing cameras began their encore as the DJ struggled to turn up the music. 

Estrella did not dare to glance at the family table, given that she knew what would happen once the magic faded and everyone returned to their metal cars. She did not regret her decision. After all, she still had room in her closet to squeeze the doll into, and nothing—not even the finest flan cakes—tasted sweeter than the tang of vengeance. 

Then, Estrella looked back at her court table, hoping to catch Celestino's illuminating eyes.

But he was not looking at her. 

He was looking at her cousin, who whispered something in his ear, generating a laugh before leaning over to reply. 

A tremendous bang pierced her heart, sending her mind flying faster than a broken hornet's nest. Celestino was talking about her: how cruel and childish she was. This was not how the night was supposed to go! Tonight was the night they were supposed to fall in love and secure their future—the night they would recite to their children and then grandchildren like folktales told every eve of October under the satisfied twinkle of a thousand stars.

Everything was slipping from her grasp, first the golden bracelet, now their future. 

Everything would be perfect if he were hers.

♡♡♡

Estrella never confessed to Celestino. She considered it while swaying with Papá to Hermoso Cariño (his choice, not hers) and again during the fifteenth candle ceremony as she cut her tres leches cake. Her indecisiveness worsened as Celestino roused her confined confession like a bored child pressing elevator buttons: dragging her onto the dance floor for one more song, jabbing the sides of her stomach as she bid the guests farewell, even asking at one point if she was alright after staring at the confetti-covered floor for too long. 

And when she lifted her eyes, his giddiness glinting through the pastel purple lights, she remembered his laughter with her cousin. She remembered the dread descending into her gut like a barrel of leaking oil, smothering her serenity beneath heavy, greased doubt. Her matching golden bracelet seared her wrist. So, although she smiled and participated in his antics, she eventually unclasped the bracelet and buried it into her magenta leather purse, clasping it shut. 

Mamá waited until they were home to reprimand Estrella for what she did, spitting and spouting on and on about how she hurt Dani's feelings and embarrassed the family in front of everyone. Estrella did not care. She was determining the cost of Dani's AmScope LED Cordless Microscope. Likewise, when would she steal the damn thing considering Dani arrived home first from school and coddled the microscope like a perrita with its favorite chew toy.

Thankfully, Dani had fallen asleep on the car ride home, so any forced attempt at an apology would have to wait until morning. When Mamá finally left her room, Estrella removed her dress and jewelry, kicking and throwing it all to the side. She slipped on her pajamas, slumped in front of her vanity table, opened a drawer, and pulled out a packet of cosmetic wipes. 

Artificial coldness licked away her glamorous mask, revealing the wine-shadowed, mapache ojos and an acne-scarred portrait of a newly young woman. A fool she was to believe the myth that her olive complexion would naturally—magically even, become lustrous at the rise of aurora’s wake. Perhaps a change in her skincare routine would advance the process; until then, her impulsive hands collected and applied the nightly serums and creams she borrowed and now owned from Mamá’s vast array. Every now and then, her eyes swayed to her phone on the nightstand. Her muscles throbbed, tempting to reach over and text Celestino… something!

Estrella sealed her moisturizer and swiveled around in her chair towards the nightstand and bed. Her fingers frantically played piano keys on her knees; what would she say?! It had been some days since they sent one another buenas noches messages; additionally, she could send him an appreciation for being her Chambelan. That was simple enough, right?

A sharp yet shaky breath escaped her. Estrella leaned over and reached out to seize her phone, but upon brushing the screen, she heard a familiar mirthful and melodious voice—

¡Espera! 

Estrella jumped back and looked at the door, expecting to find Dani spying, but it was closed. Rolling her eyes, she stood up, ready to bite at whoever was messing with her, but only to encounter a darkened hallway upon opening the door. Everyone else's doors were closed and absent of light.  

¿Qué demonios? she thought. 

Estrella shut the door softly, concluding that she was hearing things, an effect of the thunderous reggaeton rhythms the DJ played towards the end of the party. But then, as she sat at the edge of her bed, returning to her original intentions, someone whispered—

El cambio no viene con palabras.

The voice came from behind this time. It sounded scarily close, like a fly sensing sweet perfume in hair, but Estrella assured herself it must be the neighbor arguing with his wife again. How else could words come from a slumped mountain of plum-colored bed sheets or the ugly doll lying in the corner against the wall? So, she turned around, reached for the window, and peeked out the blinds to the house next door.

Nothing. Nothing but midnight darkness dancing with golden, somber streetlights. 

¡Excelente! She was hallucinating. Estrella grumbled, deciding to end this nonsense by sleeping it off. Besides, a killer seeking to slash her throat in her sleep would not be able to reach her room on the second level anyway. 

She moved away from the window and stood up to—

El cambio no viene con palabras, viene con acciones.

There was no mistaking it this time. The voice was Dani's. An exact duplicate of the mirthful and melodious voice Estrella endured every day. She heard it preceding la última muñeca ceremony, hissing something about manzanas; however, her rapture for revenge banished the words from her consciousness.

And, just like before, Estrella found herself alone. The door was closed; no outside clatter or chatter came to ease the fury forming in her chest. In the static of silence, Estrella realized that, while the voice was the same, it sounded hollow. A hollowness as strange as a seashell devoid of any oceanic orchestra, as unsettling as a scratchy melody from a music box. 

Almost as if the voice was a dreadful extension of an empty porcelain host. 

Despite every shouting, blaring thought urging her not to, Estrella looked back to the doll lying on the bed. Its eyes were shut, its hair and dress were more frazzled than earlier from being hidden under her court table and thrown by its leg onto the bed. Estrella eyed the thing, waiting for it to activate with the spirit of some demon inhabiting its vessel, but it remained lifeless as it was supposed to be. Estrella scooted towards the side of the bed, snatching the thing by its legs, and scanned every glossy inch. Such dolls as this one are crafted without voice boxes, dressed without a string sticking out their back, and sold for decoration and celebration, not childish puppetry. And she was right. There was no button, no string, no bottom opening that would allow this thing to speak. Its eyes were open now, staring back at Estrella with fake irises painted brown. 

No tengas miedo, Estrella.

Its lips did not move, its eyes did not blink, yet words—actual sounds wisped from the doll and reached Estrella’s ears. Her body had never felt colder; her bones never immobile, glued in their fearful place. 

No quiero hacerte daño.

Estrella dropped the doll onto the bed. Nope! Not today! She had seen those killer doll movies; the last thing she needed on this underwhelming day was for some muñeca estupida that barely reached her knees to jump her like a ferocious fox.

Estrella lowered herself and reached under her bed until she fingered an old box that previously housed winter boots. Upon pulling it out and tearing off the lid, she dragged the doll off the bed and dumped it inside the box before sealing it shut. Then, hoisting the box onto the bed, she climbed after and shuffled towards the window, pulling the blinds and pushing it open. October's bitter embrace infected her arms with slithering goosebumps.  

Lo siento por lo que pasó con Celestino.

Her head snapped towards the box. Her eyes quivered at the mention of his name. 

No seas estúpida, Estrella scolded herself. Está jugando contigo. En el momento que habrias la caja, te atacará.

“No sé de qué estás hablando,” she spat, grabbing the box, and holding it out the window. 

Creo que habría dicho que sí.

Está jugando contigo. ¡No escuches! Suelta la caja. ¡Suéltala!

“Tú—Solo estás diciendo eso para engañarme,” Estrella voiced, shaking the box. 

No soy una embaucadora, desprecio a los que lo son. No entiendo qué tiene de gracioso hacer sufrir a las niñas más de lo que ya sufren. 

Estrella blinked. What kind of demon did not enjoy mocking girls? Wasn't that El Diablo's entire thing in La Biblia? Damn herself for forgetting the parables!

“Entonces, si no eres una embaucadora, ¿qué eres?” 

Una muñeca. Una muñeca que solo quiere ayudar.

This felt like a fairytale. Like the fairytales, Mamá used to read to her when she was younger with talking animals and impossible feats. Estrella would never tell Mamá, but she missed hearing her dramatic narration. Long ago, Mamá once dreamed of being an actress. And for twenty minutes every night, she shone like a chorus of stage lights: delicate and articulate, with delightful vernacular tricks tucked beneath her tongue and in the back of her throat and a flashing rainbow of masks embodying the characters as if their light already lived within her. 

Her shivering shoulders brought her back into reality.

Bringing the box back inside, Estrella placed it on the bed and closed the window. She opened her mouth before closing it again, grimacing at what she was about to do: a fifteen-year-old chatting with a doll! None of those fairytales featured a talking doll, but they did contain magic. And since the doll could speak, Estrella wondered what else it could accomplish. 

“¿En verdad crees que Celestino iba a aceptar mi confesión?” she asked.

Sí, lo cero. 

“Entonces, ¿por qué me impidió enviarle un mensaje de texto?”

Por lo que pasó hoy con Dani. No deberías haberla avergonzado delante de todos.

Of course, this doll was a moral figure; most magical things are in fairy tales. Estrella was about to flip the box to the floor when a thought occurred to her.

“Dani ni siquiera te quería así que ¿por qué importa?”

¿Te dijo que no me quería?

Estrella scoffed and crossed her arms. ¡Caray! she desired to scream. How dare this puta muñeca sass her! Sure. Technically, Dani never said she did not want the doll and may have been stiff throughout rehearsal because she hated being on stage, but Estrella knew her sister. Had she handed the doll to Dani, the poor thing might have ended up looking like the Latina version of Cynthia from Rugrats or buried in the backyard for "scientific research," whatever that meant. This doll ought to be grateful to be spared that suffering.

Then again, Dani would use the doll more than Estrella, who planned to stash it in her closet, where it would sleep in piles of snowy dust, befriending aged stuffed animals. 

Suddenly, Estrella's tongue surrendered.

Entiendo que estabas enojada, pero tus acciones lo único que han hecho es demostrar a todos los invitados, incluyendo Celestino, quien tu eras en realidad.

Why couldn’t no one understand? Estrella would not have denied Dani the doll if she had not messed around and taken Celestino’s bracelet. Why does she get a free pass while Estrella was chained to the weight of accountability? Are young women not allowed to be mad, to be spiteful, to be annoyed? Es caca de toro! If an eleven-year-old was still allowed to revel in childish attitudes, why wasn’t Estrella allowed a similar freedom? 

Pero, yo puedo ayudarte con eso.

So, the doll can do more than speak. Interesante, Estrella thought, considering her next words. Containing her excitement, she asked, 

“¿Sí, verdad? ¿Como?”

¡Con un deseo! Tengo mis limitaciones, pero puedo otorgar cualquier cosa, desde buenas calificaciones en los exámenes, hasta cosas románticas garantizadas.

The latter revelation aroused her attention. Romantic gestures, huh? That was exactly what she needed to secure Celestino! Just one date to highlight why they were perfect for each other. One date to fix her vexed, dubious image for a portrait of graceful perfection and alluring personality. She could not ask him on a date, oh no. She would rather lie in a room of serpientes and let them bite, bulge, and bury her body. But if someone—or something could persuade Celestino to ask her out, then why not whisper the word deseo?

As stated in fairytales, every wish came with a restriction or a price. Which of these the doll would plead she had no idea. So, she inquired, crossing her fingers and toes, that the answer did not involve a time limit or an animal sacrifice. 

Todo lo que necesitas hacer es darme a tu hermana pequeña y disculparte con ella.

Nope! Absolutely not. Estrella refused to apologize to Dani until she received an apology and compensation. Then maybe Estrella would forgive her. And forget about giving the doll to Dani! She can get her own when she has a Quinceañera. There was no doubt about it. Mamá’s spirit was possessing the doll to deceive Estrella into accepting responsibility.

The doll must have heard her thoughts, for it claimed, 

Estoy pregunto todo por mi cuenta.

Despite her indomitable reluctancy, as brawny and brazen as Samson— (he was from La Bibla, right?)—the doll's demands were not that bad. It was certainly ideal compared to a midnight deadline or handling dead animals and their gooey guts. 

Still. Something did not feel right. Thunderous cautions and unshakable worries struck her chest and shocked her nerves. Was this the correct way to attract Celestino's attention? It was undoubtedly the simplest, but can she date him, kiss him, and even love him knowing he was initially bewitched into giving her a chance? 

No tienes que hacer esto. Estoy feliz durmiendo en tu armario hasta que me pases a tu hija, pero debes saber que una vez que rechazas mi oferta, nunca más la volveré a ofrecer.

Estrella did not have the answers to such questions. But what she did know was that if she passed up this opportunity, she would regret it for the rest of her life. Every day would plague her like a vigorous cough. Every night would haunt her like a vengeful phantom; she would scream and cry and drown herself in the oblivion of her foolishness, failure, and loneliness. 

And nothing was worse than a destiny of solitude.

Estrella closed the door behind her and slid across the hallway to Dani's room. Her door was ajar—a habit survived from childhood against sleeping in an enclosed space. All Estrella had to do was push and step forward. She took a deep breath and peered down at the doll held in her hand. Its instructions were straightforward, but that did not halt the cyclone from crawling and cracking the pillars and bricks of her foundation. 

The door cawed like a crow as it swung open. In the far corner of the room, Dani's splayed figure, sleeping on her stomach, facing the wall, was captured in the silhouette of the grayish darkness, enhanced by the light leaking from the bottom of Estrella's door. Gentle breaths and incoherent utterances hymned Estrella's ears; she hoped that whatever dream acted inside her sister's head enveloped her like a bird in a cage. Keep her merrily singing and ignorant of the figure closing in. After softly shutting the door, Estrella raised the doll to her lips and voiced her wish into its ears. Then, she embraced it and sealed the deal with a kiss on its forehead. 

There was no reason for her to perform that last act, yet it felt crucial, nonetheless. Estrella crossed the room to the bed and placed the doll against her. She backed away, expecting the doll's presence to rattle Dani's cage, but she remained as dreamy as ever. Estrella wished more than anything that this would succeed. Above all else, she wished more than anything that Dani would never mention the night her older sister muttered, 

“Lo siento, Dani.” 

Estrella exited Dani’s room and, obeying the doll’s instructions, closed the door behind her. 

♥♥♥

Mamá was always boisterous in the morning. If she was not rearranging glass bowls and baking pans to whisk together a new bread recipe, she was yapping with Papá about the latest family drama. There was a reason Estrella had earplugs on her nightstand. And that is what she smacked around for when she heard Mamá stomping in the hall. Before she could drown out the commotion, Mamá knocked, then breached her room. 

“¿Estrella has visto a Dani?” her mother huffed. 

Sliding the sleeping mask above her eyes, Estrella faced Mamá clad in a satin bonnet—likely for a new homemade hair serum—a vintage rock band shirt, and Papá's baggy pajama pants. Even so, her demeanor was not the customary declaration to ¡levántate ya! but rather something… dire: tips of brows elevated, green eyes dilated and shuddered. Darkness veiled the woods, plunging her into blindness and panic. 

Estrella rapidly blinked, and yawned, “¿De qué estás hablando?” 

Mamá dived towards Estrella's closest, sliding the door open and rummaging through heaps of shoes, old art school projects, and spare blankets. As Estrella dragged herself up on her elbow, hungover from drowsiness, Mamá moved away from the closet and collapsed to her knees, peering under the bed until emerging to lift the bed sheets. Estrella shrank away from this sudden action, whining to Mamá that it was too early for games. 

At that moment, Estrella realized Mamá's demeanor had not improved. Now, her hands convulsed; calls for her youngest daughter died in the oblivion of the woods. 

Dani was hiding. Mamá could not seek her. 

She fled out of Estrella's room and rushed down the stairs. Her voice hitching step by step,  “Ella tampoco está aquí Amellio.” 

Probablemente Dani está escondida en el camarote de almacenamiento, Estrella thought, collapsing back onto her bed, rubbing her eyes.

Emerging through the darkness, through the flashes of indigo and white orbs, gentle breaths and incoherent utterances resounded as visions of Dani's peaceful sprawl concentrated like warmed glass after a winter storm. Dreams do not linger like this. Memories do. Memories of a first sleepover away from home, of a first time sneaking out, of a first kiss. Of a courageous act that afterward seemed almost fanciful. 

But last night was real. Estrella really had made a wish upon a doll and placed it in Dani's room. 

Dani…

That cyclone sensation returned, more monstrous than before. Estrella sprung off her bed, across the hallway, and in front of Dani's room. Even though the door was wide open, she refused to enter. Instead, she leaned forward. 

Dani's bed was empty. 

And the doll was gone. 

Estrella felt it on the soles of her feet: the teeth of the world widened to claim her whole, to pull and chew and shred her to pieces as a price for the transgression committed. She leaned against the door frame, grasping the paint-chipped wood. 

¡Esto no significa nada! she thought. Dani a lo mejor está afuera recogiendo alas de libélula rotas y mariquitas muertas. ¡Mire! Lo único que tenía que hacer era mirar hacia afuera y allí estaría Dani.

Stones burdened her pockets; glue cemented her feet as every ounce of her strength strained to push her limbs toward the window. Upon reaching the sill, she forced it open and peered into the backyard. 

Bright was the color of the sun shimmering its charm onto the azure heavens. It was a holy sight, ravishing enough to rival a church's stained-glass windows. What her family had for a backyard was nothing extraordinary: itchy bushes against their faded-bricked house, fluttering green hairs in dire need of clipping, metal storage staged in the right corner, and tall wooden arms enclosing the entire space. 

Everything was perfect on this quiet October morning. 

Everything, except for Dani. The storage cabin was locked. If Dani were in there, Estrella would have spotted a gap in the door.

Downstairs, Mamá cried about Dani's whereabouts while Papá spoke steadily, albeit impatiently, on the phone. Estrella's grip loosened, her knees buckled, smacking against the wall as she lowered her head against the sill. 

Calmate Estrella, she thought, trying to collect sensible reasoning without a net. Esto no fue tú culpa. ¿Cómo podrías saber que la muñeca cometería tal acto? How the fuck would she explain this to Mamá, or Papá, or anybody for that matter? Her words would be dismissed, and she would be thrown into a psych ward faster than an approaching comet! She then began to bang her head against the sill. ¡Esta maldita tramposa! ¡Cómo pude haber sido tan estúpida al creer sus mentiras y no cuestionar sus verdades ocultas! Okay. Yes. Estrella should have been more cautious and curious about the doll's demands, but she figured it was supposed to be some sort of lesson! Not a fucking kidnapping plot! 

Suddenly, a faint, sultry, then raspy voice flowed from her room, penetrating her moth-swarmed mind,

“Luna dile tú, que tú eres la única que la puede mirar.”

From that first tenor note, Estrella knew exactly who was calling. Few of her phone contacts had ringtones, and for those who did, she carefully determined which song would be allocated to which individual. Her choices were as serious as the scrunchie chosen to complement her attire of that day. 

The ringtone continued, switching to another mellifluous voice, swooning at her like a suitor outside a window. 

“En el paisaje cuando la marea estuvo alta fuiste estrella fugaz.”

Estrella got up and walked back. 

He introduced her to this song. "Luna," he said, a crescent smile on his face. When she listened to it, walking home from school, her spine shivered at the thought that the desire described in the lyrics might have mirrored his longing for her. Looking back, her hummingbird heart may have acted absurdly, but was it any coincidence that, of all the songs he could have recommended, he chose one that was intimately associated with her name?

Approaching her nightstand, Estrella double-checked the name on the screen— 

“Cuídala. Mi luna tú la ves por síempre, dile que no me verás. Pero tú sí estarás.” 

And when the name remained after rapidly blinking her eyes, exhaling bated breath, Estrella snatched her phone from the nightstand and pressed the green button. 

“¿Celestino?”

“Hola Estrella.” 

Dios. With just his buttery baritone voice, every monstrous sensation, every swarming thought, every wailing clamor from downstairs melted away into the good memories of yesterday when they laughed, taunted, and pressed their nervous bodies together to dance. Estrella braced her breath and said, 

“Hola. Buenos días.” 

“Buenos días.” 

Closing her eyes, she imagined him smiling, resting on his bed, connecting the dots of his popcorn ceiling to create a constellation of her face.

“Entonces,” he began again. “Me preguntaba si están haciendo algo el viernes?” 

Her stomach slumped; her heart halted. ¡El iba a…! She stopped. She should not jump to conclusions. She should not get too excited… yet.

“Um. No, realmente no... ¿Por qué?” 

“Bueno, me preguntaba si tal vez querías ir conmigo por un helado en ese nuevo lugar cerca de mi casa, he oído que es muy bueno.” 

“¿Como una cita?” 

“Estaba pensando más como una salida.”

Her wish. Her wish came true! Estrella eased herself onto her bed, muted her phone, and placed it on the nightstand. Then, she reached for her pillow and loudly squealed into it while kicking her legs. She could not believe it! Celestino was actually asking her out! Overjoyed, she hurled the pillow across the room, stood up, and paced before settling down again. She knew she was not stupid for trusting that doll. If it were still here, she would fix and restyle its hair, iron its frock, and embrace it until it awoke and begged her to let go.

But then, Estrella recalled the locked storage, Mamá's terrified expression, and Dani's empty bed. Her wish had materialized but for the price of Dani. Jovial, irritable, ecstatic, adventurous Dani. Estrella waited for that sensation to return, to ruin this moment and ravage her happiness into sorrow and remorse. 

Nothing arose. Happiness remained as solidified as a metal heart. 

Todo está bien, assured Estrella. Dani probablemente fue al parque y se olvidó de decírselo a Papá. Ignora las llamadas de Mamá para que bajes las escaleras, aprecia el hecho que tu sueño se hizo realidad.

“Si eso es lo que quieres—” Celestino stammered through the phone.

Estrella unmuted her phone and exclaimed, “¡Sí! Sí quiero.”

This was the beginning of their happy lives together. This was the day Celestino finally became hers. 

And everything would be perfect.