Tired Doll

the Doll shuts down its computer and heads to bed... but something catches its eye on the way. it's already past midnight, the date has ticked over, and a calendar notification has popped up.

a birthday, an old friend's birthday. it's always bittersweet for the Doll, remembering the People and the Witches that once filled its life. this one... this one was special, one of the greatest single impactors on the Doll's life.

and today marked the twelfth anniversary of one such impact: twelve years ago, the Doll threw out all of its razors. it wasn't the last time, but it was the first. it wanted to heal, and heal permanently. no more gold needed to set the pieces back together, no more scars... one of the most hopeful moments in the Doll's life.

the Doll says the silent prayer it often finds itself saying, begging any entity that might be listening to watch over that person. the Doll asks this for many people, but this specific person the most.

with a sigh, the Doll lets the prayer go. no one listened before, why would they listen now? oh well. good luck, old friend.