You always had that doll with you. It was disgusting. Mother should have binned it when she had the chance, but she didn’t and you kept it for years. You loved it. You cared for it, and you loved it. You believed it needed you.
It only had one eyelid. A blue staring eye was constantly watching you. You grew up feeling that everyone was watching you, and they were.
You were going to be great. “Whatever you turn your hand to you’ll do, and do well,” – that’s what she always said.
Where did you go?
I miss you.