Britney Anne ‘Barbie’ Whittleson

“She can be so sweet and loving…” her voice trailed off as she peered out the half open door. In the waiting room bathed in the orange glow of afternoon light sits their little Barbie playing and giggling gleefully.
Her husband grips her hand continuing softly “other times it’s like she’s possessed. Like a demon takes hold of her-those big blue eyes go cold and-and it’s like it’s li-”
“She doesn’t care, or love, or feel a thing” her voice cracks as she tries to keep quiet least her little lamb overhears. This is too much for the farmer and his wife.
“Well, have you ever asked her? Children are often full of insight into what they need and want, you just have to listen.”
“Yes ma’am we have.” He admits shifting uncomfortably in his overalls, but he paid a pretty penny to see this head doctor and this man is not in the field of wasting money.
“And what did she say?” The therapist smiles peering out at her soon to be client overjoyed to offer her ear to another misunderstood child.
“She don’t care about anyone or anything-in fact she says… she says she only likes my wife cuz little girls need mommies.” His voice is tired he never thought it’d be like this-wait your entire life to be blessed with a child for this.
The therapist is smirking still watching little Barbie with her two blonde pigtails bathed in warm orange light thinking the parents didn’t listen. “Well Mr. Whittleson I can assure you you’re child loves yo-”
A shrill cackle interrupts her as the trio look out the office door. Britney still bathed in the afternoon glow violently pounds a red plastic brick into the dolly’s skull. Her eyes dark and focused when she turns to the adults “Dolly got boring” her voice monotone and lifeless.

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