It doesn’t really seem like I’m writing to you, but I want to finish what I’ve started–telling the story. I haven’t written for a while since I’ve been trying to date, but as Barbie, I was born with good memory. I still remember where I left off.
The days of Barbie and a lot of Kens continued. Ken faded into the background the way the pink color of Sophia’s wall faded with age.
In Sophia’s twentieth year, she experienced her first heartbreak. The complete story, I was never told about, but I overheard from Kens–whom had sneak ed out in the middle of the night to watch Sophia talk in her sleep–that she got ditched by a cruel guy. When the Kens came back, they were sighing with sympathy.
I should’ve noticed then that I felt nothing.
I suppose the breakup hit Sophia really bad. In a week, she’d set fire on the whole mansion, starting–of course–from the fireplace itself. She threw every Ken doll into the fire, and she threw me in as well. I was conscious long enough to watch her burn the mansion. I paid no attention to anything else.
Before I closed my eyes, I had only one thought.
“I want to turn human. And then I can find out what it is that makes kind Sophia so insane.”
Hey, fireplace, do you even know that you were the very same fireplace that “killed” the Kens and I? I don’t find it creepy that you burn with no help. This old mansion is a wonder. I’m one of the wonders in it.
I’ll tell you about Adam next time.
With no love,