Hello.
You don’t know who I am, but I know who you are.
I’m the monster under your bed and the bogeyman in your closet.
I’m the unknown.
You don’t see me unless you look for me, and even when you do, are you sure you’ve looked hard enough? Searched thoroughly enough?
Here’s something you need to know about me: I like dolls.
Or rather, one particular doll.
My father didn’t let me play with dolls. He said he didn’t like them and they weren’t for me.
So I hid my doll and proved him wrong.
Now, I’m proving everyone wrong.
Including you.
This is the story of my new favourite doll after I lost my most precious one.
I didn’t believe in love at first sight until I saw her.
And I mean, all of her.
The porcelain skin, the baby blue eyes, the golden hair, and the pink dress with ribbons and tulle.
It’s like she was made for me.
She was.
My own doll. My special doll.
I was broken the first time I saw her. I was about to make a decision I’d regret for the rest of my life, but she showed up. She was there, beautiful and crying, and I knew I had to keep her.
I already had a doll before, so I hadn’t paid her any attention.
Now that my doll is gone, I finally see her.
Crying, speaking.
My previous doll didn’t do that. Not really.
Her golden hair camouflages her face and hides her from the world, but eventually, she’ll be completely visible to me.
There’s an art in being a doll master. You get to see and notice things no one else sees or notices. Not even the dolls themselves.
Masterpieces in the making.
I can recognise a masterpiece even before it’s fully formed. That’s why I’m the best doll master you can ever find.
That is, if you can find me.
You can’t.
And neither can she.
I’ve mastered the art of deception, of hiding, of being invisible.
Sometimes, even I don’t see myself.
Even I find trouble in recognising what I’ve done. What I can do.
My limit has been myself, but today, I’ve let go of the last shackle.
Now, I have a new doll. My prized possession.
Silver. My beautiful little doll.
Welcome to my world.
You’ll find it fun.
Eventually.
Oh, and don’t search for me. You won’t find me until I let you. And when I finally show up in front of you, all you’ll be able to do is shatter into bloody pieces.
I smile at the thought.
Time to start my homework.
Run, doll.
Hide.
And don’t ever, ever look under your bed.
