Why?

I am to become a new me through this damn doll.

Me, the found.
Me, the loved.
Me, the friend.
Me, the pretty.
Me, the thoughtful.
Me, the healthy.
Me, the emancipated.
Me, the emerging.

I can grasp the concept, but I don’t know how to get there.

I will be guided. Sally will help lead the way.

I am frightened of the adventure of Meme. It seems stupid, childish.

She sits there with her eyes piercing me like Chucky in the horror movie, with hints of torment and anguish.

She mocks me.

I hate her.