“What are you thinking!?” Vanessa exclaimed.
Chloe responded, “What?”
“This is Angie’s toy,” Vanessa explained, “We shouldn’t play with it without her permission.”
“Yeah… I think Vanessa is right about this,” Tiffany added.
This made Angie slightly more relieved. She was still on edge however.
“Angie’s not going to notice if we play with one of her toys,” Chloe said.
Tiffany rebutted, “It’s on her bed. That probably means it’s important to her.”
“But…” Chloe tried to think of a response.
“Let’s just leave it and go home,” Vanessa suggested.
“Oh all right,” Chloe agreed.
The three girls walked out of the room, leaving the transformed Angie on the bed. The plush-girl thought this was a triumph… at first. Then, she realized that nobody was in the room to save her.
“Somebody, help!” she tried to cry.
Nobody came. Her call went unheard.
Hours of Angie begging for somebody to come to her aid passed. The plush-girl was starting to lose hope, when her mother came into the room.
“Mom!” Angie tried to gleefully yell.
The woman carried a cardboard box in her arms. The word “Toys” was written on it in black marker. That box seemed familiar to the plush-girl.
“It looks just like the ones we use for our… yard… sale,” Angie thought, coming to an awful conclusion.
She had forgotten that her family’s biannual yard sale was today. Every toy that the plush-girl didn’t play with would be put up for sale, and Angie’s mom never saw her play with a pink stuffed fox. The mother searched every inch of the room, grabbing “unnecessary” toys and putting them in the box. The plush-girl prayed that she wouldn’t be discovered. It seemed like that was going to be the case.
The mother looked under the bed, grabbed a few Barbies, and closed the box. It seemed as though Angie was spared. Then, the mother took one glance at the plush-girl. If she still had blood, it would’ve gone cold.
“Angie doesn’t sleep with stuffed animals,” she mumbled.
She picked up Angie, and examined her.
“I’ve never seen my daughter play with you,” the mother commented, “Must’ve been from long ago.”
She then reopened the box, and dropped the plush-girl inside. Angie was horrified. The inside of the cardboard box was cramped, and the plush-girl barely fit amongst the other toys. She had to be practically forced downwards in order for her mother to close the box. This caused her much pain, and it was dark within the box.
“Please!” Angie begged, “I want to be a real girl again!”
Once again, nobody heard her. The box was carried out of the room, downstairs, and out of the house. The plush-girl felt noticeably warmer when her cardboard vessel was brought outside. Shortly afterwards, all movement came to a stop as the box was placed on a table. The mother opened the flaps, and placed everything from the box on the table, starting with Angie.
She was sat upwards, and a sticky note was placed on her chest. It was no doubt a marking of how much it’d cost to buy her. Soon, the mother had taken out all the other toys, and did the same to them. They all sat still on the table, waiting to be looked at, and potentially bought.
“I don’t want that!” the plush-girl internally screamed, “I want to be myself!”
It was to late for her though. Customers were starting to come. Most of them browsed the various bits and bobs available at the yard sale. However, some of them went directly to the toy table, and one of them looked at Angie.
It was…