Saw Doll Name Novels & Stories

“Good thing we are working on strengthening our family rather than letting others tear it down.” “Well, if she haunts the doll, I wonder what she will think of Becka. She’s awfully controlling of your time. With all the phone calls, texts and messages.” “What’s her name?” Benjamin watched Denise flip through the papers and smile when she held up a certificate. “It says, Bethany. The girl’s name and the dolls are Bethany.”

one of them said, cuddling the doll close. "I'm naming mine Mi-mi," the other girl said, patting her doll gently. "She's gonna be a bandit when she grows up. A good bandit." Vivien smiled and kept braiding, working on a more complicated doll for one of the older girls. They were all being very patient, probably because Vivien had promised them these dolls if they stopped pestering Marjien about the ginger soup she was making. It was a weak, thin brew in any case, but they were running out of food in general.

Her voice was guarded but not unfriendly. “Well, you sure are a pretty girl. My name is Lena. What’s your name?” “Bonnie.” The nurse had her attention now as she rocked back and forth. “Bonnie? What a beautiful name. And what’s this? Is this your dolly?” The child had assumed ownership as if she’d brought the toy in with her herself. She nodded again. “Do you like to play with baby dolls?” Bonnie’s head rocked back and forth. “And wear pretty dresses?”

she said, clutching her beloved toy tighter. Dhruv's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Your doll looks lovely. What's her name?" Sanya's face lit up, proud to introduce her cherished companion. "Her name is Rosie. She's my best friend," she declared with a hint of pride. Dhruv extended his hand, offering a gesture of friendship. "Rosie seems like a wonderful friend. May I meet her?" Sanya hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering to Shanaya, with a mix of hesitation and trust. Slowly, she extended Rosie towards Dhruv, allowing him a glimpse into her world of imagination and companionship.

“That explains so much.” Papa continued, passing out each item slowly. A whip-sword that looks like it was made out of an ancient and holy vines and silver-thorned bramble for Aya. A curved bone-saw blade for Sari that looks like it was owned by the devil himself. A silver-inlaid stave carved with moons for Lily. She cradled it like it was a baby bear. “This one has a name,” she whispered. “I can feel it.” I wasn’t surprised. Lily had always been strangely good at naming things that should be nameless.

Even though Zach probably wanted to get out and be with her, he could not. If he left, it would give me time to discuss my partnership with Cameron. Rachel loved her doll and hugged it tightly. She looked up at me and said, “Cassia, what should we name her?” “How about ‘Long Hair?’” I suggested. She looked at me. “That’s it?” “Isn’t it a good name?” She smiled and kissed the doll’s head. “Long Hair, you’re so cute.” She accepted the name even though I was not good at naming things.

—Sophia's POV I couldn’t breathe. Not because of the smoke, or the heat still clinging to our clothes from the fire we left behind… But because that doll— That cursed, hand-stitched doll— Had my name on it. Aria. Not Sophia. And it winked. It. Winked. Ethan held it like it was made of poison, his fingers stiff, jaw locked. I watched the movement in his throat as he swallowed hard, eyes never leaving the thing.

Girls were annoying. The girl looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before speaking quietly, "I'm sowy. I cawled you but you did not hear. My name is Evewyn. You can call me Eve. But only my daddy calls me pwincess." The girl introduced herself proudly but got no reaction from him other than a dry look. "Will you be my fwiend? We can pway dollhouse togwether." She tried again and held out her doll towards him.

“I didn’t have toys growing up. I love how soft she is. Her name’s Cinna. Short for Cinnamon.” Zane’s jaw tightened. “Ronan won it for you?” “Yeah.” I hugged the toy closer, oblivious to the edge in his voice.

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.