It was a cold day in December, exactly one week before Christmas, and Mrs. Jane Myers was taking a walk with her child. She walked slowly, the snow gently crunching below her feet with every step, a look of great serenity on her face. Serenity…she wore this expression quite often, perhaps this is the reason she named her daughter Serenity. A quite unusual choice, but no one in town dared question Mrs. Myers. A tiny thing her daughter was, only six months spent in this world. Jane’s husband had passed away when she first conceived Serenity. “The poor woman,” the townspeople would say, “She loved him so much, she’s sure to try to join him.” But she didn’t. Instead, Mrs. Myers continued her daily routines, not changing the slightest detail. Except of course the morning stroll she added when her child was born. As she walked down the streets this cold December day, she checked on her infant. “It sure is freezing,” she said, “do not worry my child, I have covered you up well. I do not suspect you will fall ill.” When she glanced upwards, Jane noticed a few people giving her a very peculiar look. You would think she was crazy if you too viewed their frightened glances. Confused, Mrs. Myers nodded, “Good morning…Can I help you?” Immediately, the people turned away. Not out of embarrassment, but for fear of what she might do. Mrs. Myers continued with her stroll.
She used to have many friends in this town, but all had ceased speaking to her after she bore Serenity. All except one, Mr. Jonathan Worth, a new member of the small town, arriving one month after Serenity’s birth. He took a strong fancy towards Jane almost as soon as he arrived. They spoke often. In fact, Jane was the only person that Mr. Worth ever spoke to. He was a psychologist, she soon discovered. He had moved to town in order to conduct a study on someone’s mind. However, he never disclosed to Mrs. Myers the details of this study. “It is private. An issue between my patient and me only,” he would say whenever she asked. (Which was almost daily.)

She had almost reached the end of her walk when Jane saw Mr. Worth. “Hello, Mr. Worth!” she shouted, just loud enough for him to hear. “Mornin’, Mrs. Myers!” he responded. More glances and strange looks were pointed towards Jane, but she did not fret. “How are you, Mr. Worth?” “Well, I’m doin’ just fine ma’am how are you?” “I’m just lovely! I do enjoy these walks with my dear Serenity.” Mr. Worth’s expression changed. Eyes a little wider, brows curved upwards in a worried expression. “Goodness ma’am, isn’t it a little cold to be out with an infant?” “It’s alright, Mr. Worth, she’s well covered.” “I’m just sayin’ you wouldn’t want her to fall ill…” “Mr. Worth, I do not understand why you always insist I keep my child at home all the time! She is not ill, nor has she ever been. You must put an end to these absurd statements you make. I am beginning to think you’re crazy!” More worried stares from passersby.
Mr. Worth was concerned for Mrs. Myers. He had heard that when her husband passed, she was, for a moment, completely hysterical. Yelling at all who tried to speak comforting words to her, aggressively shoving or hitting anyone who made an effort to hug her or wipe away her tears, violently set off by loud noises. If you asked Mrs. Myers about these times, she would deny it, saying, “When my husband died, I was devastated. However, I maintained my composure for the sake of my child. When she was born, she provided me with the serenity I so desperately craved. I moved on. These stories you hear are mere rumors.” But we knew. We all knew. We heard everything that night. The screaming, the ear-shattering cries of the baby, the sudden silence. It was true, her daughter had given Mrs. Myers serenity, but in the most twisted, evil sense of the word. We ignored it for weeks, pretended that nothing had happened. Then he started taking walks, talking to the child, buying her clothing. If it had ended there we might have simply become accustomed to it, however the baby was not the only imaginary being she spoke to. We do not know who called them, but we were glad someone finally did.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Myers,” Mr. Worth stated, “but you simply cannot behave like this anymore. The townspeople do not want their own children in your presence. They are becoming terribly frightened.” “I assure you I don’t know what you are referring to,” Jane answered. Several policemen came out of hiding. They immediately grabbed hold of her arms. She fought it. Jane Myers kicked and screamed for help, but her old friends just stared, motionless. They placed handcuffs tightly around her wrists as Mrs. Myers screamed, “Don’t hurt my baby, please!” Another police officer approached the stroller, horrified, he picked up the body. A small, plastic doll.