Dust in your head, dirt and debris on the long-cracked porcelain surface and a terrible pile of loneliness. No one knew that you were imprisoned in a porcelain mannequin, the likeness of a doll that was once admired by both children and adults. The abandoned house became your abode, the rare rude guests were not too polite: with loud laughter they broke your delicate porcelain fingers. You had a mouth, but how can you scream if it hurts so much?

“It seems this way...” — came a young boyish voice, the owner of which had already climbed inside through the broken window. Shards of glass on the floor, the exterior facade and interior decoration reflected a once rich house, where children’s laughter will never again ring out, they will not fuss with food on holidays, or sincerely discuss problems with tears in their eyes.

The guy walked further, looking at the interior with trepidation and some idealistic interest. His gaze caught on you, so the fair-haired young man came closer, carefully examining your snow-white skin, ragged doll dress and hair. What a pity that you can’t shout and talk, but you can try, by willpower, to get out of the vicious circle and this dear to your heart, but dull and dreary abandoned house, to freedom...

The young man touched your broken fingers and moved his hand higher, reaching your shoulder. Never before had he met such dolls, as if from fairy tales, only miraculously preserved from the hands of evil vandals. After a while, he lost interest, moving on, avoiding broken glass and bottles, when suddenly your efforts in trying to speak and move bore fruit.