She was a mysterious one. One that showed nothing to no one else but me. She had something magnificent that only she trusted me with. It was her smile. To others, she had a face of warm and smooth stone, polished to perfection with a fierce shine. She hid her smile perfectly behind closed doors. All she would do to express herself to others without their judgement, was to dance.

Oh, she was a talented one. One that could make peace with her dance alone. To stop a was, all she would, or could, do is dance it away, reuniting the people together with not words, but with her grace. But, what added to her talent was what she spoke. In secret, she would speak in whispers with the sweetest and slightest of voices. Never did it crack, nor did it shriek, but it never failed to hide her feelings. It was perfect, and it made her perfect. As though she herself were of porcelain as a doll, made to dance on a porcelain throne for her impure audience.

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So I broke her.

What had pushed me to destroy such a magnificent and beautiful doll of porcelain was what had made her so perfect to begin with. Her smile she shared only with me was not one of consideration, no it was not. It was impure, it was a smile of one higher than another giving pity to the one below them. So I decided to draw her a smile of red. Her voice of gentle sweetness would turn sour when whispered. It carried nothing but lies and superiority when sent to my ears, it was spoiled. It was a voice that I could only compliment by giving her a necklace of twine and string.

Oh, how angelic she looked with her smile and necklace. Truly a doll of porcelain.