Life spiraled more and more. Her head was heavy and her face was made of porcelain. The doll for the world, the one to be played with and left eventually. But if you look closely, even this plastic doll has a tear or two hidden behind that eyelash. More than just a tear hidden away. But she's made of fake fragments, sewn together after the million times of being torn apart.
Kid: I'm worried about you.Dad: There's nothing to worry about.
Kid: How can you even say that?
The doll stares at the world around her. She doesn't get a say or a grip on the people that surround her. It. But she can't think of herself as 'it'. She likes to believe there's a heart around there somewhere. She just looks on, trying to see but her vision is clouded and blurry. She gives up a little more each day, on humanity and gives in to the demons that are just waiting to engulf her.
Kid: Why is this happening?
Dad: It'll all get better.
Kid: It never gets better. It just gets worse.
She knows she's powerless. She knows she has to let go of the people who have cradled and hugged her. She has to accept the enormity of this planet and realize that she's not the axis it spins on. She always knew it was going to be hard. But when it got so difficult, she doesn't know. But then, that's why she's made of porcelain.
Kid: I'm scared.
Dad: Chill kid. It'll all work out.
Kid: Don't call me a kid.
The feelings that her face emotes have been plastered on her. Nothing feels like it's hers anymore. She belongs nowhere. And the longer she thinks, the more out of focus her thoughts spin and crash and burn. She tries to speak but nobody's really listening. She's the minuscule of tiny, about a nano-meter tall, in this playground of giants, made to feel even tinier when she's addressed or called out. So she's prepared to be tossed around and thrown out altogether, soon, very soon.
Kid: I don't want to lose any more people than I already have. Not to death, not to anything. Not again.
Dad: We all are dead and just pretend to be alive.
Kid: You're right. I guess I was always dead inside.
"What killed me baby?" ; "Maybe I did. You'll never know."
"You?" ; "Yeah, me. I always said I could."
"Is this so you can breathe me back to life? ; "No, this is so you can disappear forever."