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Waving

Day by day, night by night.  I am in the window just collecting dust.  I am living a life that should not even be possible.  I am not sure how I became a living doll.  Not a girl that people call a doll, but a literal doll.  I look like the ordinary doll.  I am not, I look like I belong, yet I stand out.  I am different to everyone. I am happy this way and I have more power than everyone in the world.  I should be feared.  Still not one person knows my secret.  No one will ever know.  I make sure of that.


One cool, bright sunny morning a young girl walks into the toy store.  She looks down at me and says “It looks like she is waving.”  I notice my hand how I am holding up five fingers, I guess it does look like I am waving. She smiles and buys me. 


The child bought me, it has been awhile since someone bought me.  I almost feel bad for her.  Almost.   She plays with me all day.  Then at night puts me on the desk,  and goes to sleep.  She won’t play with me I need her to play with me.  The light of the moon fills the room the child is sleeping.  One day everyone will be asleep. 


I can’t wait anymore I want to be played with, I don’t like not being played with.  “Come play with me.  I’ll kill your family.”  I sing.  She rolls over thinking she is having a nightmare and goes back to sleep.  I had work to do.  The next morning she is up and screams, her screams fill the house. She cries all she can do is cry.   Not soon after the police show up.  The child takes me with her as we go with the police.  The police won’t let her play with me I hate them I will get revenge.  They are never to understand how I feel.  They never will.
    The child cries but still plays with me.  That night she falls asleep, we are still at the station.  The room is dark, and quiet. She is still not playing with me at night.  Once again I sing “Come play with me.  I’ll kill everybody.”  She doesn’t even stir in her sleep.  I have one long night ahead of me I get to work.  The next morning her town is dead.  The next town over takes us.  The child can’t stop crying.   Always crying.  Like I said I almost feel bad for her.  


    The next night I am in her arms on her chest I can feel her breathing.  The room is dark almost no light is in the room I can only see the outline of the child.  The only sound is her breathing.  I don’t like not getting played with.   I sing “Come play with me.  I’ll kill you.”  Nothing. I sing again.  Still no reaction.  I am mad now, I strangle her, I kick her.  I hear a scream of pain, she picks me up, and flings me into the air, it is too late, she takes in her final breath. I caved in her lung.  She died fighting, I smile as I fly through the air.  My job has been done.  I shatter as I hit the ground, one of the demons inside me, I can feel it disappear, I feel it go into the girl.   Her eyes turn red.  Then she is gone I choked her and killed her now she is just like me. 
The child was right I was waving. I was waving goodbye.  The demons always repair me.  I always get a new crack now I have one on my neck.  I go back to the store.  Only now I hold up six fingers, on my tiny doll hands.  






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