Sounds of fading footsteps slowly alert my senses.  I can’t believe it’s my turn!  Finally, I’ve made it to the front of the line after the years of waiting and wishing for The Doll Whisperer to hear me.  Oh, how I longed for it to be my turn.  I’ve grown so weary and envious watching the other souls go before me  slipping through the magical doorway.    Countless days faded away as I watched from afar the new doll forms being made, but never mine.  The countdown has now begun.  At the stroke of midnight my waiting will end.  Bong, bong, bong…the rafters shuttered, old crows shriek and the lonely wind moans….into the pale moonlight Mary Elizabeth goes.

With a thump and a groan she lands into her new home.  Carefully, ever so carefully she consumes her new form with a sigh…tears forming in her eyes.  Tears of joy has she… as she allows her spirit to dance freely.  Suddenly the laughter stops.  A hauntingly beautiful bride stands before her….somewhat tattered and torn.  A reflection of her memory  suspended in time and space…the old, cracked looking glass….took her mind to another place.

As pure as the driven snow…Mary Elizabeth eloped on that fateful night….guided by the shadowy moonlight.  Forsaking her kin for her beloved….so true…

Dad kept his promise…the marriage didn’t go through…….