Karin mumbled, “It’s okay Takashi, she didn’t mean it.” The doll was silent, but Karin lightly stroked it’s hair trying to ease what she thought was a real person. Once her beloved doll was back in her arms she proceeded outside, grabbing her small back-pack, before making her way to the bus stop. Karin slowly eased down picking up her beloved Takashi. Karin eased over to the wall where Takashi was laying and checked to see if her mother was watching. “Whatever” she said, “Hurry and go before you miss the bus.” Her mother walked of not even looking back to wish her only child a farewell. She had no response to her mother’s actions, nothing but a blank stare. Karin watched as the lifeless doll slumped to the ground. For God’s sake you’re in high-school now don’t you think it’s time you leave that thing home for once” her mother shouted, as she pried Takashi from Karin’s arms throwing him against the back wall.

Her mother walked over to her and looked the doll that Karin held tightly against her chest. Her legs climbed down the stairs tirelessly stopping at the bottom. She smirked at her reflection and made her way down stairs. She found a soulless mockery of her self image starring back into her eyes. Karin grabbed Takashi and went to check her reflection. A small brush made it’s way through her hair making her curls show even more. Her agile fingers laced her shoes till they fit her perfectly. She tugged on her stockings doing her best to pull them higher. She looked back towards her doll, Takashi, and glanced a look of sorrow toward him as she began to dress her self. Karin made her way over to her closet pulling forth a crimson Lolita dress accented with black lace. The first day of high-school a day every teenager dreaded, but one that they had to face sooner or later. She let out a yawn as a voice came from down stairs calling, “Karin, you’re going to be late for your first day of school if you don’t hurry.” Karin let out a sigh. Out of the wool coverings arose a girl with chestnut brown hair that draped over her shoulders in messy curls. A small commotion arose from a small twin bed as a petit figured stirred.

The light of a new morning broke through the stained glass creating and a beautiful display of colors upon the maple flooring.

Torrid tales net