I grumble as the children play with me. I look up at the shelf of other toys and then back at the children. Why out of all toys they play with me? I can’t even do anything about it because they’ll know i’m alive. Nobody but my creator knows that i’m alive.

As I’m getting tossed around I feel a sharp pain in my arms as if the strings have gotten loose. I feel myself being dropped and I look down at my arms to see that they’re gone. I groan and just accept what happened like it was nothing.