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Zelda was already tired of Christmas and it wasn't even December yet. Black Friday had past thankfully. However, already throughout the mall everywhere was garland, lights, and worst of all Christmas Music through the intercoms. Zelda would not say she found the whole thing sickening because it's not that she was a Grinch or anything, but it just was the exploitation of it left her tired of Christmas before December even arrives. She also understood the wheels of capitalism and all that, yet it just felt wrong how more and more stores were having employees to work on Christmas Day.

Zelda today wore a blue stripped toboggan, red sweater, and finally insulated jeans and boots to combat the cold. Although, once she got inside she took off the sweater and hung it over her shoulder revealing her pink tank top. She picked it out today in a mood that protested the season.

However, whatever grievances she had against the managers of the mall all evaporated when she laid eyes upon The Toy Box toy store she'd heard so much about. Her friends all swore by it for their Christmas shopping. What drew it to Zelda's eyes though was the complete lack of Christmas decorations or themes.

She stepped inside and was embraced by warm air, the smell of cookies, and the lack of Christmasy things. Though, there was the underlying cheer that one associates with Christmas. The colorfully costumed assortment of employees aided the holiday shoppers, but they were from classic children's literature from what she could tell no elves. The life-like decorations that rendered the onlookers sparkly eyed as they watched them perform were not in and of themselves Christmas-like.

A jack-in-the-box juggled winking at her as she passed, a wooden marionette danced above her, an ongoing living chess game where the pieces played themselves, this place swept her off her feet within her mind overwhelmed by the childish glee! It all seemed so unreal. How could they craft such realistic costumes that were comfortable to be in?

"Excuse me miss, would you like a cookie?" Came a suave voice and a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a man behind her dressed as the White Rabbit of Wonderland fame holding a tray of a variety of cookies in one hand and a top hat in the other. He wore a three piece suit black exterior with red pinstripe undershirt. Everything else was a pelt of thin white fur that looked like it wuld be airsoft to the touch. His whiskered face was curled into a civil grin as he held out the try like a butler.

"Yes, please," Zelda nodded and took a bite of the baked treat. It was delicious as it melted in her mouth! It was the perfect bend of sweet, soft, and warm, “Are these home-made?"

"They are very special," the rabbit replied with a nod, "A little dough, flour, and a pinch of magic. I make so few I only give them to folks who I believe have a special… spirit about them. Would you like another?"

"Of course!" She looked around while savoring the cookie, wishing there was something to wash it down with. "It must be wonderful, being able to work in a magical place like this, playing dress-up every day..."

"Have some warm milk, miss," the rabbit suggested, producing a glass from seemingly thin air. "Do you have a favorite?"

She took a sip; it was neither too hot nor too cold, and complemented the taste of the cookie perfectly. "I have to say I've always been fond of ballerinas..." Zelda began, then paused, placing the back of her hand on her forehead. "...sorry, I'm suddenly feeling a little sleepy..."

The rabbit merely nodded wisely, then caught the girl as she fainted.

* * *

Zelda awoke in a flowery-scented pile of satin sheets, opening her eyes slowly and squinting at the bright lights shining on her. A few seconds later, she realized she was no longer wearing her street clothes but instead a periwinkle-colored leotard and white tights. Her hair had been swirled up into a compact, almost Grecian, style and there was a fluff of layered tulle around her hips. On her feet were satin ballet slippers, tied with pink ribbons.

"Hello?" She ventured, getting unsteadily to her feet and looking around. "Where am I?" The room she was in seemed to go on forever into a featureless haze.

Suddenly, the face of the white rabbit appeared from a most unlikely place as it seemed to materialize out of the fog above her bed. He looked quite a bit larger than he had when they first met, easily towering over her in a surreal manner.

"Splendid! You look marvelous, my dear." He spoke. She noticed that the space she was in seemed to soft his voice some.

"Thanks, but what's going on? Am I still in the Toy Box?" Zelda asked concerned.

"Oh, most definitely. But, no time to waste; there's a show to put on!" The rabbit tutted disappearing back into the fog as suddenly as he had materialized, then the music began.

It was a classical tune, at one time Zelda might have been able to name it, but now she sensed the tune with her entire being and responded; as the first tinkling chimes sounded, she knew what she had to do as she skipped off the satin sheets into the fog, where a circular dance floor existed. Although she had never taken lessons, Zelda now performed as if she had been a prima ballerina all her life, her lithe figure and feet moving in time to the hauntingly hypnotic music that seemed to be driving her elegant activity more than her conscious thoughts. Through arabesques and jetés, pirouettes and fouettés, she *owned* that stage and the triumph of performing filled her with an overwhelming joy.

Then the music slowed and with it her beautiful sculptured movements as the dance wound down. The final note sounded as Zelda stood gracefully in mid-rond-de-jambe, poised with her arms held in the fourth position, frozen there like a porcelain doll as the music stopped. From somewhere outside the fog, there was the sound of clapping. Then the fog seemed to clear and she glimpsed a glassy gazebo enclosing her small stage and, beyond it, the other toys and workers of the shop.

She finally had time to collect her astonished thoughts: ‘Have I been turned into some kind of doll? Why is this happening? And when is someone going to play that hauntingly lovely tune again so that I can MOVE once more!’ However, she could not voice these thoughts through the performer’s smile she wore.

* * *

Alas, the little crowd around Zelda moved away. She didn’t quite blame them, they were busy and she was a doll. Zelda thought it strange how easily she accepted her new place in the world. Perhaps it was because how beautiful she had become, or how exhilarating it was to dance, or maybe even just because being a doll would be so much easier than being a human.

Zelda had a heightened awareness of herself. She could feel her fingertips on her left hand rising toward the ceiling, the way her elbows were turned out, and the movement that could spring from her feet with just a hint of music.

She could also see and sense the eyes that would look to her lithe ballet body, every girl who looked up at her in wonder as well as every boy who admired her. Zelda felt like she would hold her back straighter and smile wider for the kids. After all, Zelda thought, she was transformed to ignite the wonder and magic in their eyes; thus, she did so happily.

Every half hour she would respond to the chiming sounds of her music box, and every half hour the crowd would return to her, clap, and cheer at her beautiful dance. Then they would always leave, and Zelda never minded because more would come to watch her and admire her.

Some girls would come beside Zelda and try to mimic her pose or try to dance like she did. The ballerina discovered that she was not as immobile as she thought. When someone was this close to her, she could turn to them and smile. She could change her position, or spin around on one toe. She could even relax her perfect ballerina posture and lean down, putting her hands on her knees, to look her little admirers in the eye then wink. Zelda couldn’t speak to them, but could mouth her hellos and mime her appreciation. She could never get off her pedestal, but so long as one toe still touched her music box, she could still move.

Night began to approach after many hours of being a living doll, and it was the thought of not being seen and being alone in this giant store that began to panic the new ballerina. But as the last shoppers were turned out, and the cleaning crews began their nightly work, the fog that had first brought Zelda to her stand returned to take her back.

The doll walked the impossible cloudy road that brought her to her stand, and returned to the dim room she first woke up in. She saw the outlines of a dresser and the bed, illuminated by enticing light coming from beneath a door. Zelda took graceful ballet steps and heard a growing, raucous noise of entertainment from the other side of the door. Excitement filled the doll, and she twisted the knob.