Little living dolly

Introduction

It's my sixteenth birthday in one week. 7 days. 168 hours. 10080 seconds.

Birthdays are weird. It is something you share with thousands of people yet still means something to you and the people you know. Your sixteenth birthday though, is not just a birthday. It's more than that.

Most people don't understand that, but my sixteenth birthday is when I get a special present.

I have been collecting dolls for years. There is something about them that makes them seem so... Loveable.

Most people find them scary, and the older the freakier, But no. Not to me. The older they are, the higher the value, and the richer the spirit.

Most people think I'm crazy, but I'm not. I have been to multiple therapists but none of them realize that what I say and see is real. Because of this, my parents worry about me. It's only natural for them to, of course. They are my parents, why wouldn't they worry, but the thing that pisses me off the most is that they doubt me. They refuse to believe what I tell them when it's real and instead send me to an mental institute.

They initially sent me to a mental institute because of my apparent, "freakish" obsession with dolls. They got scared of me. They feared me because of how I began using real bodies to make my own creations. 

As I said, dolls are special.

My obsession began when I was 4 years old. I was at an antique shop with my mother; it was then I saw this beautiful little china doll. It had these beautiful glass eyes and luscious eye lashes and its dress was darling. A beautiful little flower dress with a gorgeous little ribbon tide around her waist, it was then when I vowed I would become a doll maker, but with an exception; it would be made out of humans. 

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