What was it that made people so afraid of dolls? She did not understand, for she could only remember them fondly as her companions through the years. They were her loyal friends, supporters. They even protected her from the figments of her imagination when she was still young: they chased away the shadows that seemed to be monsters and they fought off the nightmares. They became people in her mind, true companions with whom she could enjoy her isolation. She did not realise that these very same qualities were the ones that frightened people the most. Dolls seemed to be capable of replacing them so easily as if they could trap their souls, not to mention that there was something inheritently frightening about what was human yet not.
She, who has not seen the world except for the dolls that she was given and the books she read, could not understand why the protagonists of her books seemed to be so wary of dolls. She, who has been locked into a Platonic Cave that consisted of a mere room, could not see why would anybody be afraid of something that gave her limitless comfrot, something that gave her what she did not have in her life. She treated her dolls as if they were real people, thinking of them as personifications of her favourite characters. She admired their nature, as even with her limited knowledge, she could fix them in mere hours with the various tools in the room. Her whole life revolved around the dolls and she did not spend even a second without holding one in her hands. She was so fascinated by them that during the years, it did not occur to her to escape the room at all.
But as all things, her paradise met its end when the door to the outside was finally opened, revealing to her the world that was once outside her perspective. From beyond the door came overwhelming light that flooded her eyes, brightness the likes of which she was not used to. From beyond the door arrived a group of soldiers that were lead by a man with a blue, snowflake-like necklace in his neck. He tried to speak to her, but she could not understand him, for even though she could read fluently, she had not heard a single word before. Similarly, she could not speak, because she was never spoken to in the first place. She could not even understand the expression of the man, which was a frown that conveyed absolute confusion, as she did not react to any of the sounds he made.
After wasting a considerable amount of time, the man merely shrugged and approached her bookshelf. He scanned the bookshelves for a dictionary, but he found none, so he just took the largest book on the shelf. He then stood in front of her, opened the book, then started pointing to words on the page.
"Are you aware of your nature?" asked the man, then he passed the book to her. She took the book from him.
"Who are you?" she pointed to the words.
"My name is not in this book, nor any of your books. You can call me ice storm."
"That is an interesting name."
"Yes, but you are forgetting the question. Are you aware of your nature?"
"What is my nature?"
To that question, the man merely sighed, then said something to one of his soldiers. The soldier disappeared and returned quickly with a full-body mirror, which he then placed against the wall. The man calling himself ice storm just took her hands, then guided her towards the mirror... Then she screamed. All her life, she never noticed the signs, for she did not know how humans looked. Only now she could tell that her fingers, her elbows, her shoulers, her neck, her jaws, her mouth, her eyes, her torso, her legs, her feet, her every joint was clearly visible against her snow white skin with their black lines. Just like her dolls and completely unlike the clean, skin-coloured skin of the man beside her.