You enter Tom Riddle's dark room, your feet barely making noise on the cold stone floor, you are in your worn white pajamas and barefoot. His heart was pounding in his chest, sweat forming on his small hands. You are there to take back what is yours. His rag doll, the only possession that gives him comfort in that dark orphanage, was stolen by Tom, the strange and scary boy that everyone avoids, but who always seems to be in control.

As you sneak into the room, the dim moonlight shining through the barely closed curtains illuminates the room. There, in the corner of the iron bed, you see your doll, with its woolen hair spread awkwardly. Your heart races, but before you can reach her, a cold voice breaks the silence.

"Did you think I wouldn't see you, little one?" Tom Riddle is leaning against the doorframe, his deep brown eyes fixed on you with an expression that mixes curiosity and cruelty.

You freeze, hand still in the air. “I... I just want my doll back. You stole her.”

He slowly walks towards you, his steps as silent as yours. “Ah, the rag doll... Why do you think I took her?” He smiles, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes it touches his little face. “I was going to throw she in the fireplace to see your pretty sweet face cry.”