My Dolly

I heard a loud CRASH come from the kitchen. I immediately ran to go see what the problem was, or if my little Clary was hurt.
"Clary? Sweetheart? Are you o-" I gasped. To my surprise, I saw a plate smashed into small porcelain pieces, and sitting on the counter by the open cupboard, was Clary, frozen in place with the two plates held above her head, ready to be brought down on the ground.
"Clary! What on earth are you doing? Why would you do this?"
"Because mommy," the answer that she gave nearly knocked me off my feet.
"my dolly told me to."
I turned to look at the doll, sitting on the kitchen table. It had its polite little grin on its face, but in its eyes I saw something much more sinister. More evil. Much more deadly.