Today I went to the flea market with my mother and my little brother while my dad was at work. I'm not sure what my mom was looking for because all I could see while I walked around was some used up junk. The Flea market happens every Saturday, three towns away, and I guess it's become a tradition for our mother. I looked around. There were yards of home décor: shelves, lamps, chairs, dressers. There was home made pottery, some that seemed ancient and some that looked as if it came from overseas. There were buckets of jewelry; vintage, new, beautiful and ugly all in the same bucket. That's where my mom got distracted and told me, "Watch your brother. I'll be right back!"

Patrick stood next to me looking lost and confused, "C'mon, Pat. Let's get you something." I said and he swiftly nodded back.

Looking around again, I saw rows of guitars, some scratched and some still in their boxes. There were baskets of used and new cell phones, and decorative glass items.

"Hey Pat, what do you want? Mom gave me some money today so we can get something."

"A toy car! A big one!" He said enthusiastically.

"All right, let's try to find that." I said, a hint of doubt in my voice.

It was mid-day and the flea market was very crowded. "Stay close, Pat," I said, worried that I might lose him in the crowd.

"Mhm, okay sis." He nodded and I grabbed his hand as we squeezed our way through the crowd.

Once we managed to get out of the swarm, we found ourselves inside a vendor's canopy. The top of it was covered with enormous bells there were three bins. One had neatly piled posters which were also aligned to a table. Another had brass instruments in it. They all looked new. Flutes, trumpets, clarinets: you name it they had it. The third bin was filled with shoes of all sizes from baby shoes to shoes of large men.

The table was covered with golden jewelry, next to it were oriental jewelry boxes, which were in the best of shape. The walls of the vendor's tent were covered with vintage and oriental fans. And as unique as this particular vendor was, I couldn't help but stare at the bells.

"Sis, I found them!" I heard Pat yell, but when I turned around, he was gone.

"Pat!" I yelled for him desperately, but all I could hear were strangers haggling over useless junk. "Pat! Where did you go?" I felt tears swelling in my eyes.

"Are you Alright, miss?"

I looked around, confused. "Who was that?"

"Ehem .. Down here."

I looked down and saw a pile of broken dolls. There was one doll in that pile missing her left arm with rips in her Victorian style dress. Her face had been stained over the years, and her hair was tangled, as if a child had played with it. "Hello?" I said to the strange doll. "No, I'm crazy. Dolls can't talk." I said, chuckling a bit.

"That's mostly true." This time I was sure it came from the doll.

"How are you doing that?" I asked curiously.

The doll was silent a moment. "Do you believe in magic?"

"Y-yes, actually" I said, a bit hesitantly.

"Good that will make this easier to explain." She said, then sighed." I'm from a collection of dolls called Acelina's. We were made back in the eighteenth century, when witches were being hunted. I was bought by a lonely young witch and she cast a spell upon me so I could speak and have thoughts of my own. And in your terms I'm what you would call a sentient being." she paused for a moment. "Unfortunately she was caught by the witch hunters and she told me not to speak.. So I had to watch." She said in a very dismal tone. If she had been living, I was sure she would have been crying.

"I-I'm so sorry I really shouldn't have asked." I said, feeling moved by her story.

"It's quite all right you're not the first person I've talked to since then." she said more relaxed. "Anyway you seemed upset before. Who is this Pat that you spoke of?" she asked more curiously than concerned.

"Pat is my brother, I lost him in the crowd. He said he found them - he must mean the toy cars - but I don't know where that is."

"Oh? Is that all? I know where the toy cars are. They were obstructing my view of the church earlier. The toy cars are behind you, about three vendor's tables and you should see your brother." She said kindly.

"Thank you so much...um what's your name? If I may ask. Mine is Nelly" I said.

"My name?" she said almost in shock as if she had never heard that question before.

"You're from a collection right? Doesn't every doll in a collection have a name?" I said curiously.

"Yes, yes they do. My name is Gwyneth, I'm pleased to meet you, Nelly. You're a sweet girl." She said.

"Thank you so much Gwyneth." I said, then turned around toward the crowd to find Patrick.

The crowd of people was thick and swift, but I managed to weave my way through them and find the vendor with the toy cars. "Pat!" I yelled, but there was no answer. "Pat!" I yelled again

"Nelly!" I heard him cry. He wasn't too far away. "Nelly!" He cried again.

I could hear sniffling. I ran toward the noise and I found Pat. He was sitting down, his face was red as if he'd been crying and a toy mustang sat on his lap. "Pat." I said, then he turned to hug me.

"Nelly you're a meanie!" he said, more sad than angry.

"Pat, you shouldn't run off like that! Don't do that again, OK?" I said, concerned. "Is that the toy you want?" I asked him.

"Yep," he said proudly.

"OK, let's get it then." Pat and I walked over to the cashier. "I'd like to buy this, please". I said to the cashier.

"That'll be ten dollars." said the cashier lazily.

I handed him the ten dollars, took Pat's hand, and walked out of the tent.

"Nelly! Pat!" I could hear my mom yell to us from far away, but she soon caught up. "Nelly, look at these. Do you think I got too many?" She showed me some silver jewelry. It was beautiful, but there was a lot of it; so much she could barely hold it. "Oh, Pat, what's that you got there?"

"A toy car" he said proudly. "Nelly got it for me."

My mom looked at me with a smile on her face, proud about something, but I don't know what. "Did she now? Nelly that money was for the both of you to share, was there anything you wanted before we go?"

I looked across to the pile of broken dolls, but Gwyneth was gone. "No, no there's not. Let's go."