A Wrong Turn.

[TiaLynn]

Porcelin. Her complection was so perfect, so flawless, she looked like a doll. Her eye's were a crystal blue and sparkled like diamonds strewn across a blue blanket. Next was her hair. It was straight and curled slightly at the end, it was jet black like the sky at midnight, light shone off it like stars. Her lips were a soft pink and behind them were words. Beautiful words. Words that rolled off her tongue and died at her very lips. She was always so quiet. The story behind this doll seemed so complicated, so amazing, but who was pulling this gorgeous marionette's strings? Why did they hurt something so beautiful like this?