There once lived a little girl named Franchesca, all alone in a big grand mansion made through perseverance and wealth by her parents. She was an only child, and she was very well privileged. Her parents could not spare any time for her, thinking about her future as Chronos passed by. The little girl knew this, and she somehow felt the back breaking pressure on her, which made her grown attached to the morbid love of paranoia. She always played alone by herself, becoming so soft spoken for she didn’t have much friends; they all ended up leaving her after she has grown attached to them and afraid to let them go, so selfish of her actions. She only had her wealth which was immeasurable and her perpetual solitude, which molded her into someone so perfect when it came to her mannerisms as an obedient child, and she knew she could make her parents so proud; ironically, this made her so sad. This gave her such sorrow and pain, cutting the thin fragile flesh of her broken heart yet it became so mundane that one could rarely see the hurt in her hazel eyes. That was how much agony she felt that she had to hide from the prying eyes of suspicion and flash a smile that contrasted with reality and was oh so pretentious every single day.
On rare occasions, she and her parents would have a family dinner.  Usually, this is also the time when they would give her new and expensive presents.  She was so sick and tired of this rare routine for she had so much toys already that was all in her big treasure chest inside her room, yet this was the only way she would be able to see her parents once again. She always missed them, always hoping that her mother would have time to play with her and her little black kitten Napoleon and that her dad would teach her how to speak in a foreign language in their veranda all afternoon; yet those hopes were all shattered the moment she sees them at the end of the day clad in their black and white suits as they hold a cellphone against their ears.
At the dinner table as they were eating, her father said “we have a gift for you, Hija.”
“It is very nice. It came from Europe when we traveled there, and the salesman in the little toyshop said that it is rare and one of a kind.” Said her mother. “We bought it for an average amount of money, but we’re sure you are going to like it.” Usually, what they meant as an average amount of money was equivalent to a price that can feed more than fifty people in a grand party; Franchesca definitely knew this. She held back a sigh, and was forced to smile despite disappointment and discontentment.  Her parents returned her very polite and normal gesture, and presented her with a package wrapped in coral pink paper and a pearly white ribbon.  The package looked very pretty, yet Franchesca was not so eager to open it. She eventually did, though, when she saw her parents’ faces and as she carefully peeled the scotch tape that held together the wrapper one by one, it unraveled a white box. She opened the flap of the box, and pulled out what seemed to be another box made of glass.  She carefully took it out and saw a doll inside.  It wasn’t exactly beautiful, with its porcelain white skin and her auburn synthetic hair as it wore a maroon-colored baby doll dress trimmed with white lace, and it wasn’t as good as her other toys in the treasure chest yet she somehow got attached to it.  
She played with the doll all day, having tea parties as the sunlight shone through the translucent white curtains of her room.  She played with it, talked to it, and cuddled it while sleeping. It was with her when she went out of the house on a bright sunny day with a sky filled with fluffy big clouds, and also during the times when she would just look at the raindrops that trickled against her window when it was raining.
This somehow became a routine for her, and though it was mundane, she treasured every moment she spent with the lifeless object.  But as time went by, like all little girls she became bored with the doll.  Yet it wasn’t just boredom; it was the fact that the doll seemed so useless now. She realized that the doll couldn’t talk and that it didn’t cuddle her when she needed a hug. It was with her during the day, yet she never saw the light reflect real emotions in the doll’s plastic painted eyes. It was there when she was all alone her room, but its silence made her more aware of her solitude.
This bothered her so much that one day, she woke up and immediately grabbed the doll beside her. She looked at its features properly, and saw nothing but lifeless objects molded into one material so full of unrealistic hope.  The sight just sickened her, making her walk towards her walk-in closet.  At the end of it was her ancient rusty treasure box which was given to her by her aunt. She’s surprised that it hasn’t been covered by cobwebs and as she bent down towards it, lifting its dusty lid, she once again saw the darkness that enveloped all of the toys inside it; she somehow managed to ignore it and from her hands fell the doll that she once liked but now hated. She didn’t feel much regret for it, even feeling fulfilled that she actually did it. All the memories, now all hidden and forgotten. Yet she was apathetic and she had no concern for it. She then closed the chest, stood up, and walked away, even after she looked back to the chest before closing the door.