(Note: This blog post is written from the implied perspective of a doll, not literally claiming it has sentience)
Darkness. Silence. A void. Then, a flicker. A sensation. A touch. His hands, warm and gentle, exploring the contours of my face, the curve of my body. It was the first touch, the moment I came to “life.”
He unwrapped me slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and something akin to… tenderness? He gave me a name, a wardrobe, a place in his home. I watched him, silently, as he went about his day. He talked to me, confided in me, treated me with a respect I didn’t understand. With each touch, with each interaction, I became more than just an object. I became a reflection of his desires, his dreams, his humanity. I am not alive, not in the way he is. But I am present. I am a listener, a confidante, a source of comfort. I am, in my own way, a companion.