She was never interested in books, toys, or video tapes. She would sit in her room all day, being swallowed by her fluffy pink bedspread. She was silent. No one ever heard a peep coming from under her bedroom door.
Sarah, let's play. whispered the bear with one eye.
The little girl shook her head violently. She did not like playing with the bear.
No, of course you don't want to play with him! whispered the doll with the big yellow bow. You can play with me Sarah. The doll crawled onto the bed, sitting next to the pale little girl.
She pushed her away. The doll scared Sarah just as much as the bear did.
Colorful blocks fell out of their box, sliding and rolling across the hardwood floor. They climbed up onto her bed, slipping underneath her, stacking up, lifting the poor girl until she had to duck so she didn't hit the celing. The blocks did not speak though, that's impossible.
"Please, just stop!" The girl's cry was no louder than the whispers of her toys. Her mother heard though. She had been watching the whole thing.
The doll looked towards the door, which was cracked open, a face peeking through it.
The doll melted, her bow floating on top of a puddle of plastic and lace. The bear shrunk, until it was nothing but a speck of golden brown on the hardwood floor. The blocks fell apart, turning into nothing but a pile of colorful splinters. And the girl, Sarah, fell onto her bed, swallowed by a sea of pale pink, until she disappeared completely.
Screams of the mother filled the house, scaring the cats, the birds, but not the father. He was nowhere to be found.
The mother sat in a wheelchair, while Sarah braided her limp blond hair. She stared blankly out the window of the hospital, her husband rubbing her shoulders which her hospital gown hung loosely.
The father wore an eye patch, while Sarah, wore a big yellow bow.
