Must this be home?
This empty place. There’s no laughter. No weddings. No parties. There is only war, over and over again.
Why must he make me a soldier?
When I came here, I was pretty. Great figure. Perfect hair. After all, I was a good doll and I belonged to a good Child. When she left me here, this nation’s Child ignored me. This Child was never like his sister.
And then, after his father took the Guardian away, after that terrible night when the Monster under the Bed had to become his new Guardian, the Child discovered me and made me something different.
He cut off my hair. He colored one of my eyes red, the other green. He taped a gun into one hand.
I’m not a princess anymore. I’m no one’s bride.
Now I fight alongside this Child’s toys in his battles. The dinosaur villain-become-hero is on one side. The Train carries our supplies on the other. The Child’s stockpiled every plastic weapon he can scrounge.
Except the Sword. Except that honorable blade that spoke respectfully to me.
Why the Child has painted him the villain, I do not know.
I know I used to be beautiful, though.
No, that’s not true. This Child still thinks me beautiful.
My Child, though… can I ever go back?
Would she take me back looking like this?
Or would she simply throw me away, because now this Child has truly made me his own? I want to go home.
Read more of the Nation of the Child here.