Her favorite toy was the porcelain doll. Emily, she called her. She chose the name because it was her sister's name and she looked up to her sister more than anyone else in the world. She would sit in her room with pretty pink walls, playing with Emily until it was dark. Just when she could see the moon outside her window - glowing, a magical blue color - her Mommy would walk in.
"Time for bed Sweetie," Mommy always said.
Reluctantly she would curl up under the covers, still clutching Emily close to her chest. With a kiss from Mommy she would drift off into the land of sleep.
She entered a building filled with light - pink, purple, blue and green light. Everything was magnificent and dazzling, so bright she had to shield her eyes and squint to see.
In her arms she found faithful old Emily, decorated with her white makeup, bright red lipstick, and braided brown pigtails. Then suddenly a honey bee flew by, stinging Emily's arm. A look of horror crept onto Priscilla's face as she screamed. Instantly her eyes fluttered open.
She turned on the light by her bed, searching desperately for her wonderful doll. And there was Emily, right by her side, completely unharmed. And so life continued beautifully for the little girl and her porcelain doll.