The Awakening of the Dolls

Chapter Eight

Akira's heart raced, before clenching painfully. She remembered the last words that she had said to her mother, remembered yelling at her and running away. She barely noticed as her stepmother ran after Michael, scolding him for running off.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Mrs. Barker soothed as she realized the expression on Akira's face. "I know how worried you must be. I was terrified when I heard the fire. I can't imagine how Claudia must feel."

"Fire?" Akira cried. Her mind filled with the worst images.

"I'm sure your mother will be fine. It wasn't too large of a fire." Akira couldn't help thinking her stepmother didn't sound completely certain when saying that, as if just trying to assure her. "She'll probably be out of hospital in a few days."

"Days?" Akira cried. "Take me to her. Please."

Mrs. Barker hesitated. "I'm not sure... the hospital is a long way from here, and your father took the car... you could visit her tomorrow, when she's feeling better."

"Please!" Akira demanded. "I need to see her."

"Are you sure? Mom's right. She's probably badly burned," Michael added, causing Akira to gasp. "You wouldn't want to see. She was completely engulfed in the fire-"

"Michael!" his mother scolded, hitting him over the head as Akira's eyes widened. "I'll take you, Akira. I can imagine how much you want to see your mother."

Akira could barely wait for the entire taxi ride to the hospital. She remembered how her mama helped her with baths and rinsed her hair, how she had bought a new doll for her and played with her for hours, how she kissed her and held her until she felt better when she injured herself. She forgot all about that one mistake that she had made.

When they arrived, Akira could barely sit in the waiting room. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears fall down her face as she remembered how she had run off when her mother tried to speak to her. How she had thrown away the rag doll that she had given her.

Her stepmother kept her arm around her, but it felt so different from her mother's familiar touch that she pulled away. When it was time to visit, Akira leapt to her feet eagerly.

The walk to her mother's hospital room felt like it took forever. Akira was torn between running and walking as slowly as possible. She was worried about what she'd see when they found her mother.

As the door slowly opened, Akira's heart sank as they stepped inside. Her father was standing by her mother's bed, staring at her in concern. Her body was covered by a thick blanket and heavy gauze, her dark hair pinned back with a cap. But what disturbed Akira most wasn't the bandages covering her arm or the reddened burn marks across her face, but that her eyes were closed.

Akira's heart lifted slightly as her mother's eyes opened. She forced a weak smile at her husband, before glancing around at the new visitors. Her smile widened to a genuine one upon seeing her daughter.

"Akira? Is that you?"

"Mama!" Akira ran to the bed, raising her arms to embrace her mama before hesitating. "Are you alright? What happened to you? How long have you been like this?"

"Akira, slow down," Mr. Miyamoto scolded. "Can't you see how weak she is?"

"No, it's fine," Mrs. Miyamoto assured, smiling weakly. "It's not as bad as it was a few hours ago. I can at least feel my body now. But I don't know if that makes it more or less painful..." She winced, letting out a low moan of pain. "I guess now I know how you felt when you were injured on our trip to Japan."

"That was even worse," Michael muttered, shuddering at the memory. "And it was my fault..." They were too concerned about Mrs. Miyamoto to pay attention to him.