Born To Die (In Progress)

A Place To Call Home?

Well, happy 26 birthday! Another day sitting in the window of a small vintage doll store that nobody knows exists. Although sometimes a girl will come and beg to buy one of the dolls but nobody will want to buy me. I'm a medium sized doll with bright blue hair and big bright blue eyes. I'm wearing a vintage silk wedding style dress that was once white but is now turning yellow with age. I'm such an old doll that the owner of the shop I call home has put a much higher price than some of my younger comrades.
A birthday, what is that supposed to represent? Celebrating making it another year closer to your death. That doesn't sound like something to celebrate. I don't understand humans and their complicated beliefs and feelings. That's what makes them feel the need to create these... Things like me. We don't belong in this world. We shouldn't exist! I don't want to exist any longer! Please someone break me I don't want to be forced to see anyone else leave me like I'm nothing other than a heap of porcine material.
    That's when "she" found me. She made me feel so hopeful! I wanted to believe she was going to be the new "Her" and the fact that it was on my birthday made me feel even more hopeful. Of course nothing good can ever happen to me. I should have learned that by now. I was blinded by my hope for a valid family. How stupid...
"Mom! Mom!" The small girl was clinging to the glass crying out to her mother
"What child! We have to get home before 4 I still have to make dinner." The girls mother sulked back to the glass trying to pry her daughter away
"Mom! Can I have her?" She pointed to me
"Me!! She can't be pointing to me! It has to be a mistake!" I was so blinded by my hope I missed the rest of the conversation
"She's 150 but because your so cute and it's for your birthday you can have her for 102." The store clerk chuckled to the small girl. He walked down to the shelf and lifted me off my dusty corner of the display shelf.
"Here she is, be careful she's very fragile." He handed me to the small girl. I could see her mother checking her phone outside the shop. She looked extremely paranoid.
"I will!" She was so giddy, it was so nice to be held by small hands again.
     The entire ride home I was curled tightly to the girls chest. We pulled up the driveway and parked. The girl launched herself out of the car and bolted into the house. It was very nice fancy and brightly colored. Now I see why her mother was fine with how much I costed. She bolted up the stairs and into her room. I looked in amazement because the entire room was lined with dolls. The only thing wrong with this picture was every doll was lined with cracks, in their faces through their arms and legs. They weren't from age. They were from her... Soon that would be my state also. This is the place I now call... Home?