a torched doll. it blazes on into the night sky above it.
here, nobody can touch it. nobody can hurt it.
She can't hurt it.
it looks up at the sky. beautiful stars shimmer in its burnt eyes.
the stars burn too.
...
"awwawaww .. dolly?"
a voice breaks through its fixation.
it looks down, frightened.
its sister doll.
its shoulders ease back into their resting position, aching from their sudden movement.
the other doll says nothing.
it merely holds it tight.
a doll's joints, no matter how pretty, are delicate, and fragile. the poor thing tries to stand, and yet, it may stumble, trip, and even fall over.
a shame.
but that's why our owners are here to help!!
will you help it? pretty pretty please?
have been giggling about this infographic from group therapy for the last hour
ALT a smiley face, with text underneath
"I'm noticing
I'm having the thought
'I'm Stupid'"
an arrow points from them to a bubble, with a similar, more concerned face
a speech bubble comes out of this face:
"I'm Stupid"
movie villain, approaching a doll girl who was hypnotized to stay prefectly still, cracking his knuckles and going "playtimes over, pal", but coincidentally that's the dollgirl's trigger to stop being imobile, and it procedes to absoluetly decimate him
it's on a train. beautiful lights blaze past in dazzling trails. its eyes cannot focus on them.
they focus on Her.
She's on the other side of the glass.
She's posed so prettily. it can't hold itself back.
its gears grind against one another as it grinds itself against its hands.
the clock ticks, and the doll's gears tick faster.
they tick faster,
and faster,
and faster.
and then, they slow.
its perception of Her becomes blurry.
its eyes dart around wildly,
they're trying to recapture the scene,
but She's gone.
She's far away.
too far away.
it can't see Her anymore.