Down the street there was a lovely little shop. It sold trinkets and whatchamacallits, but to me what mattered most was the lovely homemade dolls crafted by the owner. I remembered when I first entered the store there was a certain aura I felt when I looked at the dolls, I knew they were special. As a member of the Ellington household, a rich family in the northern United States, I am often looked upon as if my life is glowing, even when it's not. I was a lonely child who didn't have any friends so when it came to how I spent my days I played with toys. People call me weird these days because I haven't grown out of it despite the fact I've turned eighteen. However, I cannot help it, it's my comfort zone. Truthfully I just wish for company. Dolls are meant to imitate humans, so perhaps it's only natural for me to turn to them.

As time went on I began to think of Dolls as a perfect replacement for humans. My parents who began to ignore me when they realized I could not achieve a social connection in high society were practically invisible after about my fifteenth birthday. Their pretty perfect hair, gorgeous features, and pitch black eyes fill me with such comfort I can only begin to describe. Dolls are a reflection of society's views of perfection. All that which my parents could only wish to achieve when they dress up in their fakery to appease their constituents at their fancy parties. The dolls in my room were already there, they were perfect, and they could never reach their perfection. That is why I live with dolls rather than people.

Well, except for my annoying maid who is always busy nagging me about having too many dolls. "Alexis, clean up your room, there are dolls everywhere", "Alexis, you don't need more dolls, you have 70 something please..." "Alexis, do you think anything other than dolls?". What a bother. Eventually however, she began showing up less and less, and I was truly alone with my dolls. I stopped going out. I stopped seeing people. I stayed in my room, playing with my dolls, except on the rare occasions I went out to buy more.

On one of these occasions I decided against going to the shop down the street. I had read online there was to be a market in town. Today I was hoping to find an extravagant doll at this market. Yes, it would be wonderful. I dressed in my favorite shirt and pants and walked out of the house for the first time in what must have been months. I must have looked like a ghost to the house workers but I had messaged my mother on my flip phone earlier so she must have known. As usual she didn't respond but I didn't think that would mean she wouldn't inform the house of my actions. Regardless I proceeded to the door, that was until my Maid Margarete stopped me.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady? This is the first time any of us have seen you in months" She exclaimed. "Are you to leave the house without saying a word?".

I opened my mouth to speak. "Yes, Margarete, well you see I have spoken word to my mother but as usual she has not cared enough to inform you ladies and I apologize for that, but as it were, I am on my way. I am an adult now and you have no right to stop me.

Moving past her I exit the house. Walking down the street I notice it's quite busy today. Unusual for Truffington. Must be the festivities in town are also well, the talk of the town. Reaching the market I began to search for any dolls I could find. It, however, did not take me long to find something that caught my eye. A girl whose hair was golden blonde. She wore a beautiful black dress with white ruffles. Her eyes are a beautiful pitch black with a soulless expression. She is absolutely perfect. No, more than perfect, I was absolutely obsessed with this doll. I went up to the man selling her, he must have been in his late 70's if I had to guess. He had a rather fantastical gray mustache and a jolly tone.

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"Ah a fan of Mrs. Cordelia are ye?" he snickered, almost mocking me for being so intrigued by this doll. However, in what way he thought I wouldn't be is absurdist. Why, the doll was the size of me I could not help but be ecstatic, it was like the friend I never had. The mother who never loved me, the father who never spoke my name. I needed this doll.

"How much? I'll pay any price." I exclaimed excitedly, if not in a bit of an anxious tone, others might even say creepy.

"Why ye are nothing if not excited are ye? Hmm.... I'll give her to you for just 10 dollars. How's that sound for the girl eh?" he said.

I exclaimed "What? Only 10 dollars for such a magnificent beauty? You must be out of your mind, not that I won't accept it."

"Once you've lived with her you'll understand why I sell her for such a low price, she ain't nothing but a demon in dolls clothing you'll understand lass." the man said confidently.

He must have been absurd. What does this old man think he's talking about? He must've gone senile the old bastard. I handed him his 10 bucks just hoping to get the purchase over with.

"...9, 10, yup that's it you've got the amount. Good luck lass."

And so began the trek home. I initially tried to carry her but that seemed futile as she was quite heavy, of course, not as heavy as a human, but for someone like me who does not get much exercise and for a doll of her size, it was rather difficult. Thus, I had to call the servants from the house.

That was when of course, Margarete appeared with the servants. She put her face in her palm. “Alexis Ellington, your obsession with dolls has gotten the both of us in a whole heaping of trouble, but I’ve let it slide, but this? This is ridiculous, where are you going to put such a large doll hm? In your bed Missy? Don’t be ridiculous.” she said with a snark tone.

I decided to play her game.

“Okay Margie, until you get me a social life and parents who give two cents about me I’m going to keep on buying dolls you hear me? Dolls are wonderful creatures whom you cannot even begin to envelop you tired old hag.” I said sternly and succinctly. She just stared at me in disgust, perhaps I had said too much but you must understand I have been hearing this for years. It began with my mother, I was never the daughter she wanted me to be but nonetheless I was adamant she would leave me be with my dolls as they had meant more to me than any friends I could not make. However after my mother cut herself off from me that attitude shifted to my maid who now held the complete responsibility of me, though even then her contact with me lessened.

Margarete stormed away after a moment of silence, she must be rather upset. And who could truly blame her. It wasn’t her I was angry at and instead my mother. I will apologize to her later. I consoled myself. Yes, later I will make up with her. I then instructed the men of the house to place my precious doll in the vehicle and drive us home.

And so as we arrived I only had one thing on my mind to say: “Welcome home, Cordelia”.

After getting the doll home I collapsed onto my bed with a big sigh. Going out is exhausting. Luckily though there was a gorgeous sight in front of me, I couldn’t help but run my fingers through her hair. Oh it was just wonderful. She was absolutely lovely. Words cannot describe how much she dazzled me with her beauty. She must be from, say, the Victorian era. Oh it just made me more excited. So much so I hugged her. Though as I hugged her… I realized how exhausted I was as I drifted off to sleep.