The Dollhouse

Part I- The beginning

I was made with love, love and porcelain. I was sculpted into existence with skillful hands and an artist's touch. I don't remember the exact moment when I turned from a something to a someone, but to me I've always been a living being. I remember when my creator painted my eyes a soft periwinkle blue and dressed me in a pink silk dress. I remember when I was placed next to my four sisters and packaged into our new house contained in a sealed container to be shipped across the ocean to America. A land where the richest buyers waited for the best dolls in all the world. I guess I'll never know if my creator knew that what he created was more than just a toy. Did he purposefully send me off to my doom?  Life is a magnificent and strange thing. I'm still not sure if I'm just a figment of imagination or an actual living entity. I don't have a heart or lungs yet my chest still rises and falls like the cycle of waves at sea. I don't have a brain but I still think, about existence and meaning and life and death. What is my purpose? Why am I what, no, who I am? I haven't been blessed with life, I've been cursed. And I doubt I'll ever be free from this strange world.