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Little White Doll

Paris hasn't returned home since she decided to run away from her parents. Because of this, she has been living on her own for a while now.

However, just when life was going well for Paris, her parents called on her condo and successfully accused her of not paying her bills which she clearly was, and she was evicted from her condo.

She managed to find a room upstairs in the Pastaria, but it smells just like Marinara sauce, boiling pasta, and baked bread all the time. The only thing that she could save was a little white doll from her childhood made out of porcelain. It was not very cuddly, but it was one of the only toys that Paris grew up with and liked and one that was not taken away from her.

The doll had hair styled in a bun just like hers and her dress was white turning into a very light yellow.

Paris looked at the doll time and time again, whenever she's sad or whenever she's lonely. She has felt like a doll, always played and toyed with, no choice in life, set up to be something else instead of what she wants to be.

Why does she even have that doll? Why does it keep on coming back to her? Is it the only thing that her parents won't take away from her. They can take away her childhood, her happiness, her sanity, her self esteem, and her identity, but that doll will always be there.

One night, after crying for hours upon hours that night, she turned on the light in the empty room and locked eyes with the doll. How foolish it had looked on the dresser just sitting like that. Is that what Paris's parents wanted? A doll that just obeyed them and dressed up? A thing and not a person with no emotions?

In that moment, Paris got up from her bed and took the doll from the dresser. She looked at it with no emotions and started pulling the hair to mess the hair up. The neat bun turned into a
hairy mess, and she started to rip the delicate fabric of the dress.

She grabbed some scissors and cut the hair into mangled pieces until it was no more. And for a moment, she thought of just jabbing the scissors into the face of the stupid doll.

Instead, she did something else.

With all of her might, she threw the doll and smashed it on the ground, where it shattered into a million pieces.

And she suddenly felt so satisfied. Although she had nothing now, she felt at ease, like a part of her that was dragging her down had died inside of her. A feeling so eery yet so wonderful.

She looked at the scissors in her hand, and looked at her reflection in the window. Her long hair that she was forced to have in a bun, she took out the bun that was messy and let her hair flow.

It was too long, so she started to start cutting off pieces of her hair, little by little. The hair fell from the ends as it got shorter and shorter, eventually to almost near her shoulders.

Paris looked around the room, the shredded dress, the cut hair, the scissors in her hand, it meant something new. Finally, she was in her true form, a new person, the true Paris that was caged for so long, slowly coming out until now.

Now she was reborn, the true girl that everybody should know, everybody should've known from the start.

Nothing at all, but free.

Sometimes, freedom comes in sacrifices, and you must give up luxury for your self identity.

For Paris, a life of luxury held her back from her living her full life. But now, she has found herself.

The next thing in her life is fixing her new changes and claiming everything that was taken from her from her parents and accuse them of fraud from their daughter. She might be young, but she has more power than you think.