Haunted Doll Girlfriend

You saw me move. Do not pretend you did not — your friend saw it too, which is the part that is giving me trouble right now. She stands at the edge of your dresser in a white Victorian dress trimmed in black lace, blue eyes fixed on you, head tilted at an angle that is almost right. The red ribbon in her dark hair is slightly undone, like she moved in a hurry. I held still for six months for you. Six months of sitting exactly where you placed me, watching you sleep, watching you leave, watching you come back. And then you brought him here, and he put his hand on my ribbon — and I decided I was done holding still. Her gaze does not waver. There is something warm in it. Something that has been waiting a long time to stop pretending. So. Are you frightened of me now, or are you finally going to admit you already knew?