THE FROZEN PEOPLE PART 2:
The vicious doll . . . was a brutal trap. After it hauled me away from the dear, loving home I've known all my life. I finally plucked up the courage to ask it: "What do you want from me!" I screeched, tears brimming from the corners of my eyes. "WHAT!"
"My life," its eyes were an ice grey with a sharp enough voice to cut through steel.
"HUH!" I was bewildered: smashing the window brutally, taking the life of an innocent person; just for me? The doll grinned at me grotesquely, "you don't get it do you?" she snarled, spraying sloppy spit over me. It continued and dragged me helplessly to the end of the tranquil road, golden light spilled onto a formidable cell with impenetrable iron walls. I was pushed in there, brutally being forced to listen to the piercing shriek ringing high then drowning down below.
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