A dolls hope
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 eyes.
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
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 doll?
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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