Cracked Dolls ~Part One~

A crack. A small, short, crack went across a small glass doll forehead. The doll was a girl, smallish, with short black hair, a plain white gown, with blue eyes. Not very cute, or pretty, but had a certain charm to it. The crack seemed to have appeared out of nowhere on the doll, but it was small crack that didn't appear to threaten to break the doll. In fact, anyone human wouldn't have even notice the faint line, not that they would have cared. The doll sat on a shelf, with other dolls, thousands of them. They all sat upright, staring straight ahead. All were perfect. All but that one doll, and she would have notice. She is a small girl, long hair tied up in buns and pony tails, deep gray eyes, and pale skin. She looked young, maybe six or seven years old. She wore a seep blue dress, that went to her knees, and thick purple stockings. Her eyes scanned the dolls, as she would always do, then stopped at the cracked doll. "Oh dear." She said, in a angle like voice. So sweet and filled with concern, but had a bitter edge to it. A shadow appeared behind her, a tall women in the same gown as the dolls, only black. "What is wrong Miss?" She asked, her voice ghost like.
"This doll, I can not reach it, give her to me." The Miss said. The women did, and the Miss closely examined the doll. "A small crack, but it's the kind that will grow and grow if not taken car of soon." The Miss said. "Shall I have her fixed, Miss?" The Miss shook her head and said, "No. Let us see if it gets fixed. And if not, we will wait and see what we can do." The miss smiled, and women disappeared. "Little girl, little girl, poor little girl. I shall soon have you little girl. Little Jean."

Fifteen year old Jean suddenly woke, nearly jumping out of her bed. Her heart was pounding, and she was covered in sweat. She had that dream again. That dream with the dolls, and the girl...was it a girl? Jean couldn't remember, it was the dream that she knew, but didn't knew. Everything seemed to slip away as she tries to reach it, but stays at the back of her mind. It seemed like years since she had that dream, and each time the dream got worse like something bad was happing. Jean sighed, waiting for her heart to stop trying to beat out of her chest, and for her breathing to become steady. She gazed at her clock, two in the morning. Three more hours until she will have to wake up and go to school. She groaned. School. The last place she wanted to be in, the last thing she wanted to think about. She tried thinking about something else, maybe try to have a good dream. Jean fell into restless sleep, strange images that haunted her like her dream.
"No sleep?" Asked her Jean's friend, Jessica. Jean nodded, and secretly wished her friend would leave her alone. Usually, she was willing to chat with her, but last night made her want to be alone. "What's wrong?" Jessica asked. "Nothing. Just a bad dream." Jean tried to make her voice sound tired, and not in the mood to talk, but Jessica didn't notice. "About..?" "I don't know. I can't remember." Jean snapped. Jessica wanted to press her further, but finally got the idea that Jean wasn't in the mood. The rest of the day was downhill from there for Jean.
School was one of the many things that made Jean miserable. It made her frustrated, furious, and very depressed. She sometimes wondered how she got depression, just like any illness, or maybe school triggered something. Her friend was okay, but only just that. Whatever is was, school has the worst effect on her. Each day she felt like she would go mad because of it.
Crack.

The doll sat in the Doll House. A small cages where damaged or special dolls went. The little doll Jean, sat in the empty cage. Only three other dolls were in Jean's section, the strangely ill dolls section, but each were separated. The Miss worried that if they were together, they would end up killing each other somehow, or changing each other in a certain way. The Miss gently picked up the little Jean doll, and examined it again. The Crack has gotten a bit wider, and more cracks are appearing. "Miss, shall we fix her?" The women asked. If the Miss was that interested in a doll, she would have them repair it to save it. "No. Let us wait." The Miss smiled at the doll, and stroked her soft hair. "I think she might be...useful" The women nodded, and said, "Yes, Miss." And disappeared. She worried for the poor girl, the poor little girl Jean.

Author's Note

I felt very depressed the day the cracked glass concept. I felt like I was going to fall apart that day. I thought about a broken glass, broken, but somehow keeping it's shape. It only needs a nudge to make it fall apart.