My whole life I have
watched as others get their happy endings that they have wished
for. I stand on the sidelines. For you see all I am is a doll
that is forced to watch as others receive their happy endings.
Never allowed to receive a happy ending of my own. I am forever
frozen in time just watching as those around me age. And yet as
it pains me to see all these happy endings, but never receiving
one of my own I still hold out hope for him. He is everything
anyone can ever ask for, a face that haunts your dreams and a
beautiful heart beyond reason.
Of course he would never
take a liking in me; he could never come to love a doll. I mean
how could he? Stitched together by the hems made by a pure heart.
But not loved because no child could ever love a rag doll like
me. I am too ugly to have a child's eyes be set upon me. Too
scary to let a young innocence child's eyes see me. So I have no
choice, but to sit here and rot in this shop well my owner takes
pride in her work, as she looks at the slight smile stitched onto
my face. A smile placed there for a false sense of security that
I have a heart that is warm and willingly to be loved by a child.
For all I am is a doll something glanced upon by human
Looked at but considered
too fragile to be touched, too fragile to be played with. How I
yearn to have a child wrap their hands around me and hold me
tight, never wanting to let go. To be placed warmly in a child's
heart and be loved for all eternity that is all I ask for. Alas
the only one who has come to glance at my face and smile is my
owner. For her heart burns brightly with hope one day I shall
find a good home like the other dolls? Yes, those other dolls who
have all sought out someone to love them and call them their own.
Who have been placed warmly in the arms of a child who has come
to love them.
Not me though, no I just
sit and watch as the doll maker sews more dolls who are left on
the shelf and then taken away to a happy homes. Of course no
dolls went to a home of sorrow. No dolls have ever seen what true
misery looks like. They only get to see those happy fake smiles
painted on their child's face and the happy expression they're
parents wear. They are proud to have made their little daughter
smile once more. But I am the one who sits and hopes to have a
happy ending I shall never receive it. How I wish, how I want and
yearn to be loved by someone, but no arms shall take me in
theirs. And over the years I have begun to lose hope I shall
never have a home to be loved in.
That is until he looked
at me, and now he is all I can think about. His face is the
utmost beautiful in every way just as that of a child on
Christmas morning. And his face is the one who haunts my dreams,
the only one I wish to see. For his arms are the only arms that I
wish to hold me. He is the only one who I wish to love me, to
call me his. But of course who could ever love a rag
A/N I'm truly sorry for the format. I've tried everything
I can think of to fix the format of this chapter. I hope the
format doesn't dishearten anyone to read it, although if it does
I completely understand.
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