“Well, well, you’re new,” the woman dressed all in black said. Gemma, though, couldn’t quite see the woman’s face, as she stood tall over the toy chest and her gaze was fixed on a specific spot on the ceiling. She hadn’t been able to move in hours, ever since she was transformed.

“Wait, I remember you now,” the woman said, kneeling beside the toy chest. “I saw you come in here earlier today. It looked like you were trying to avoid from someone. Is that the right?”

Gemma tried, but couldn’t, answer the woman. In addition to being unable to move, she was unable to speak. But still, she tried. She wanted to tell her what had happened, tell her that she was right; Gemma was walking on the sidewalk by the curio shop when she saw Devon, Riley, and Amy up the street, approaching her. Her high school bullies were the last people she wanted to deal with, so Gemma ducked into the first store she could.

“Well, whatever the case, you don’t have to worry about them anymore. You don’t have to worry about school or work or whatever it was you were doing in your old human life. All you have to concern yourself with is pleasing your Owners, which, given how adorable you are, won’t be a problem.”

But Gemma didn’t want to please her Owners, she didn’t even want Owners. She didn’t want to be stuck as a lifeless plush doll.

“Now, let’s get you a bit more presentable,” the woman said, gently taking Gemma by the shoulder and back, picking her up and rotating her so that she more sat in the toy box rather than lay in it. Instead of staring at the ceiling, she now looked out through the top of the far windows to the old bakery across the street. The woman had done it so easily, like Gemma weighed nothing with her cotton and cloth body.

Still, though, Gemma was restless and resentful; she couldn’t move, could barely think. Like she was a dying flame on a candle barely holding on. What happened if she went away entirely? But those thoughts died as the woman touched Gemma’s soft chin and closed the doll’s mouth. As she did, she said, “Now, smile for the world, pretty toy.”

To her surprise, Gemma smiled, and a comforting, joyful warmth spread from her lips to her rosy red cheeks, into her body all the way down to the curly toes of her feet and round mittens of her hands. It was the joy of listening, of doing as she had been told, of being a doll. And while Gemma continued to smile, she was left awash with a happy confusion.

“Very good. You see, you’re going to be a great doll for someone. No need to fret or worry your plush head,” the woman said, patting Gemma on her jester cap, giving her a slight squeeze of her springy plush.

A moment ago, Gemma was distressing her fading into the plush. But with that touch, with that command, and response, Gemma felt alive and happy once more. Eager eyes soaking in her surroundings. She had a springy plush body ready to jump, a mouth ready to gab, and a mind ready to imagine. Gemma just had to wait and see what she would be told to do.

“Now that you’re presentable, I’ll make sure to price you cheaply; make sure you get an Owner very soon.”

There were still so many questions Gemma had, about herself, what she was, how she would live. But she had become sure about something; she was, in fact, full of life. And with that thought in mind, Gemma sat in the toy box, waiting to be found.