I had always admired her.

From the day she spoke to me, I couldn't stop thinking of how much potential she would have of being my friend. She was anything, and everything, a person would look for in a friend; from her personality to her overall appearance. She was perfect.

I found myself, standing, watching, and wondering: 'Does she no longer want to be friends?'
I knew she had other friends, besides me, of course, but what more did she want? Was I not satisfying to her? What did they have that I didn't? Nowadays, I found her becoming more... Distant. As if she no longer wanted to be my friend. After all, she is "popular", but that didn't matter to me. She would cut our conversations short, and tried to find excuses (any excuse) to leave me. She was no longer interested in the dolls I made for her, she pushed me aside, and didn't spare me a glance. It was frustrating to just know how ignorant she was about the effort and time I've put into making these, life sized wax dolls. All just for her. All just to be for nothing.

But that changed.

I couldn't help but smile at her helpless form, arms and legs tied together, wrists and ankles bruised from how much she had been struggling to escape. I couldn't let her go. She was my friend.

"Don't struggle too much. You'll only end up hurting yourself." I cooed to her, lightly placing my hand on her cheek, which in return, she flinched away and turned her head to the side, almost fearfully. I scoffed at this.

"I don't get it... I'm offering all the toys and dolls in the world, but... You're afraid of me. Why do you want to leave? Am I not good enough for you?!" I yelled, slamming my hands against the wooden table I used for working on my dolls, buckets of wax, still freshly hot, resting near the legs of the table. My shoulders heaved up and down with each breath I took to calm myself. Slowly, I turned to look at her, her face tear stained as she weeped quietly to herself,

"I just... Wanted to be your friend. But... You've left me with no choice," I muttered before slowly kneeling to her height, and gently lifted her head, to take in her features up close. How her hazel eyes glossed over from the tears, they looked much like glass eyes, and her soft porcelain skin... She looked so much like a life sized doll. How beautiful. I stood from my spot, turning to the desk once more to grab the sedative I've been waiting to use for oh so long. She seemed to have spotted the needle, since she began to be more vocal, no longer silently crying. I turned and smiled, with such a gentle expression,

"I'll give you something that you'll really be afraid of. Hold still..." I spoke, inching near and roughly reaching out and grabbing her by the hair, forcing her head back and immediately injecting the needle into her neck, before slowly removing it.

"I'm going to make you loyal... Better... I'm going to turn you into a doll! Maybe then you'll stick around...
We'll be friends, forever, right, Chloe?"

(Note: it has been a while since i wrote stories so i apologize if there's anything wrong with the story, but im slowly readjusting. If you have any questions, please ask.)

Story is told by Ezekiel

can't think of one

Nice story