No!
No!
No!
This is all wrong!
This was a mistake!
Those thoughts swim through your head as you carefully pick up the broken porcelain shards from several of your dolls.
You had invited your neighbor over due to a vague want for human companions.
Your neighbor had taken it upon herself to invite her child.
The child was loud,messy and disobedient though the mother didn't seem to care much.
Soon enough the child had found the attic and begun smashing several smaller dolls.
You roughly shove the child away as they go for Rosemary.
The mother screams and slaps you before leaving, you vaguely hear something about the child going with their father.
You fall asleep later that night exhausted from the effort of repairing the dolls.
They're fixed but can never be truly perfect again.
A dark dreamless sleep takes you.
You don't feel the soft yet deathly cold lips press against your forehead.
You don't hear the soft footsteps.
The next morning you wake up and grab the morning paper.
Oh dear.
It seems your poor neighbor was found dead.
The poor thing apparently took a tumble down the stairs.
She looks like a broken doll.
