Novel & Cerita My Life As Doll Furniture

" I tried to grab it, but he shoved me back hard, and I tumbled to the floor once more. "No excuses!" Nash's fury was boiling over as he jabbed a finger at the doll. "Ever since your sister came out of your room, she's been covered in rashes and can barely breathe. The doctor says it's an acrylic allergy. What else could it be, if not this junky toy?" He lifted his arm. "Please, no!" Crash! The porcelain doll lay in pieces before me. "Mom… Mom!" I crouched and shakily tried to gather the broken fragments. Alas, no matter how gently I tried, the doll was beyond repair.

Maddie I reach up and take my doll off the shelf in our back bedroom, the room I share with Katy. I’ve had the doll since I was a little girl. I named her Tessa long ago, but the reason why is lost to memory. Not a single dust mite flies off when I pull her down and hold her close. No, I keep this shelf very clean, the one with the few treasured keepsakes our family owns. Cindy’s baby rattle, Katy’s wooden kitten that our father carved from teak wood, and Josh’s toy horse, also made by Father’s hand, sit in their places on the spotless shelf.

I'd fucking kill them. "Don't worry, baby," I cupped her face in my one hand, tracing my thumb over her rosy cheek, "We all would teach those rouges a lesson for snatching your doll from you. And you know what I have lots of dolls that you can play with and name them, how does that sound?" I could vaguely remember having all my dolls stored in the trunk in my bedroom; The trunk was an extra step I had taken so that none could steal them from me, especially my mom who was making excuses of lack of space so that she could get them out of our house.

“Aceli wants one. Where’s Aceli’s, Daddy?” “Those dolls are yours, little fairy.” Pandora struggled to find a way to figure out what belonged to Aceli. The opportunity left her staring blankly at three or four dolls of roughly the same size arranged on a chair. Oh no. Hadn’t Kingston caused the shop owner a huge loss?

I placed the bag between Mom and me and took out what was inside. It was a twelve-inch unclothed PVC baby boy doll, all cuddly and soft, swaddled in a fern-green and blue blanket. My expression morphed into pure terror. Rigid in dread, I shook with inner tremors. “A doll?” Mom took the toy from me, examining every inch of the mystery item. Dad and Uncle Duke spared curious glances for only a moment before going back to their documents. My icy glare rose to Jakub, but he was too busy fidgeting with his folded fingers to notice.

"Quite the appetite. Just be careful not to play too rough, counselor. Some dolls break easier than they look." Humiliation and anger choked me. He was shaming me in the cruelest way possible. Julian sensed it. His hand found mine. He laced his fingers through mine. "Mr. Costello." His voice was still calm, but it held absolute power. "Some games, I prefer to make the rules myself." Damien's smile vanished. "We'll have plenty of time for games," Julian continued, looking Damien dead in the eye. "And you... Mr. Costello. Your time is up."

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time since Olivia arrived, she looked genuinely interested. She stepped closer and began circling the large dollhouse, gently tracing the tiny windows and the perfect little porch with the tip of her finger. Carefully, with Olivia’s help, she opened the dollhouse to reveal at least ten exquisitely-designed rooms, each complete with a beautiful set of furniture and a whole family of handmade dolls. The house itself was so large that the roof was nearly level with the top of Thea’s head, and the craftsmanship was incredible. It was like a little girl’s dream.

The man I mean Devika's father said to me smilingly, " You both are liking each other too much like you know each other for many years" I only chuckled hearing him. I said trailing my hands-on Devika's soft hairs," Uncle, your daughter is really a cute doll. A living doll. Can I make her my doll?" Devika's father just laughed at my words and said nothing. I also didn't say anything to her father. I cooed in her ear softly, " My doll. I will play with you." Hearing me she looked at my eyes with her doe-like eyes and said, " Aaaabbbii.....")

Not hers. My hands started shaking. 'Are they selling off coma patients' bodies?' All those stories from school came flooding back. My skin crawled. I fought the nausea and fear, forced myself to finish cleaning her up. I was about to leave when I saw it—the music box on her nightstand. Ms. Deinert had told me not to mess with it. But my hand moved anyway. I popped it open. No music. Just velvet at the bottom. Then I saw it—tiny crumbs near the edge. Crackers, maybe?

It was not a closet or a bathroom. The curious inner me was found striding towards the door, carefully, that almost tiptoed. Slowly turning the knob, and was baffled by the combination of Presley’s pink-and-white striped wallpaper illuminated by a crown-shaped chandelier. The custom-made castle bed. The expensive dolls are modeled comfortably on the shelf, including Karl Lagerfeld Barbie, Stefano Canturi Diamond Barbie, Marie Antoinette Barbie, Madame Alexander Eloise, and Steiff’s Louis Vuitton teddy bear, are some I recognized because they are well costly, that only a billionaire can afford to buy. Specialty furniture in lavish royal-boudoir accouterments, Cinderella lamps, crown-shaped co