My name is Lillian, but if you call me that, I might just break your nose. No, I'm not kidding; I've done it before. Most people call me Mackenzie. Everyone cool calls me Mac. I'm in a rock band, I play play bass, and I don't wear pink. I am not cute. I am not cuddly. I wear my black-dyed hair very short and I have a wicked nose. I am not a six inch tall butterfly doll. Well, OK, I was turned into one, but that wasn't my fault, nor was it my choice. Let me explain.

My grandmother had just passed away. You shouldn't feel bad. She was a mean bitch and a bit batty. There was a rumor going around that she once killed a man. I don't think she did, but it wouldn't be entirely out of character is she had. Anyway, the whole family got together for her estate sale, and I brought my friend Yvonne with me, since I can't really stand anyone else in my family. I can best describe Yvonne as a little shitkicker. When I was a cheerleader in my younger and dumber days, she was getting a black belt in Tae Kwon Do or some other martial arts shit. She's only a shadow taller than five feet, but I would put my money on her in any fight.

We worked the attic the day it happened, taking boxes downstairs to be inventoried and priced. The grunts, if you will. But we liked it because we were as far from everyone else as possible. After three hours of moving and shuffling unmarked brown boxes and antique furniture we had cleared out almost the entire attic. Among the last things there was a faded blue box, maybe three feet long. It didn't look terribly heavy, but it didn't flinch when Yvonne and I tried to pick it up, almost like it had been bolted to the floor.

"Christ, what's in here?" Yvonne asked as she threw open the box lid. We were a little taken by the amount of toys stuffed inside. They were scrunched, packed, and crushed together, sometimes making it hard to see where one toy ended and another began. A musty smell wafted up from stuffed animals whose once bright colors had faded after years of age.

"Shiiit." I said, tugging out one of the toys with little care for its safety. The little doll wore a ridiculous pink and yellow butterfly costume and happily smiled at me.

"Were these your mom's?" Yvonne asked.

"God no." I cocked my head at the butterfly doll as I got the feeling something was a bit off about her. "At least I don't think so. They were probably my aunt's or something."

"I'll go ask her." Yvonne said, and she left me alone with the box of faded toys. I flipped the butterfly around and looked at the tag stitched into her back just below her yellow wings. The lettering had faded, but I could still make out the words. "Made by the "Secalp Hictews" Toy Company." I read the tag out loud, figuring out the pronunciation of the nonsense words. I had never heard of the company, but then I hadn't cared about toys since. . . well, never. I flipped the doll back to look at her face again, I was taken aback. Instead of her once cheery face, the doll had short black hair and wicked nose. MY short black and hair and MY wicked nose.

"What the fuck?" I said, just before two yellow pom-poms drooped in front of my face. I looked up and the poms bounded up. I looked up again and caught the last glimpses of the poms fall out of sight. I tried to think about what was happening, but was startled by an invisible hand grab me around the middle, clutching me so tight I almost stopped breathing. I coughed and sputtered as the hand wrenched me up and turned me to face a lone mirror that Yvonne and I hadn't yet moved downstairs. I saw myself, dangling in the air, but couldn't see force that held me up.

But I also saw something more disturbing: my hair was long, pink, and made from yarn. A yellow hairband held two antennae up above my head, which attached to the yellow poms I saw before. Something began to tickle my nose, like someone put a fizzing soda beneath it. The tickling continued until I could take no more and sneezed. When I turned back to the mirror, my longish wicked nose was gone, replaced by a Muppet-like pink ball of stuffing and cloth. The very same nose the butterfly doll once had.

I started to fight and squirm against the force holding me up; tried to grab it with my own hands. And then I heard two startling balloon pops, and my hands disappeared into spheres, made from white cloth and stuffed to the seams. I looked into the mirror in silence, and looked at a girl with a pink nose, stuffed hands, and yarn hair.

"Put me down, shitface!" I cried. But talking only drew the ire of the force holding me, and my mouth stitched shut and left me with a pink smile.

The colors on my top began to swirl, turning my shirt into a yellow jumper, with suspenders hooked on by white poms. My shirt was pink, and decorated with several large yellow polka dots. My jeans dissolved away, leaving me looking at pink legs with yellow dots. I felt a tickling along my back, and saw yellow butterfly wings unfurl like petals on a shitty yellow flower.

Whatever had been holding me let go of my body and I fell. I kept standing for a moment, before my legs wobbled and refused to keep me up. I saw myself as a cutsey pink mess, legs and arms and entire body now packed with soft stuffing. I scooted up the mirror and pressed a round hand to the reflective surface, watching as cloth began to stretch from my pink nose, creating a pale mask over my face. My eyes were oval shaped and a big, irises of pink with drawn on eyelashes and brows. My ears vanished into my cotton face.

And just as I thought that it was all over, that this bizarre nightmare had finished it's dance, my body began to shake. I felt like a bag of popcorn and my body began to shrink. Smaller and smaller I became, and with each passing 'pop,' I was able to move less and less. The change left me laying against the mirror, my legs scissoring slightly away from each other, and my arms angling a bit away from my body. I had no joints to speak of, and couldn't do much but stare at my smiling white face in the mirror.

The earth began to rumble and creak, sending energy through my stuffed body and tipping me over. The earthquake grew in magnitude until something came down and wrapped itself around my body. It squeezed tight, forcing my stuffing away from my stomach. The hand drew me higher and higher, and turned me so I could watch a skyscraper wearing jeans and a shirt whiz by my face. Then I stopped, angling upwards to look at a familiar face. My familiar face. The Imposter smiled.

"Oh, wow!" She said, "I didn't know being a person would be so big!" The Imposter started to walk, but she wobbled a bit. "Whoa!" She put her free hand to her forehead. "I need to get used to walking." She took careful steps to the blue toy box from whence she came and awkwardly sat down next to it. She sat me on the edge of the toy box so my little legs dangled over the edge. The Imposter dared to smile at me with pearly white teeth that should be mine.

"Thank you so much, little doll." The Imposter breathed in and took in the musty attic air, but ignored the stale smell. "I have always wanted to be a human. To move and talk." She smiled and tapped one of my antennae, making it bounce up and down. "To love a little doll. I'm sure you wondered what it would be like to be a toy, so I imagine this is a happy day for you, too."

No, not really. I thought, seething at over this chipper, sappy doll who had duped me into switching places with her. I wanted to reach out and strangle her, but my cloth arms and round hands stayed near my side, and my happy smile continued to cheer her up. "Awww, I wish I could keep you, but I think you would be happier to be owned by someone who will play with you." She bopped me on the nose and my little body fell back into the pile of toys. I got the barest glimpse of the attic ceiling before The Imposter closed the lid and left me in soft darkness.