Amy and Sammy had been raised together, identical twins. The only way to tell them apart was the mole Amy had. Amy always thought she was better than her sister. She'd call her names like Sparemy, and Samey. Because of Amy, nobody knew Sammy and was known as Samey. One day, it was almost Amy and Sammy's birthday. Sammy was the good twin, and decided to surprise Amy.

She knew Amy would be out at parties, and that gave her enough time to work on a gift for her sister. Sammy was stuck with a room in the attic at their house, and in the small attic was a wooden chest. Every day, Sammy raided the chest for items. She had seen Amy get porcelain dolls, plastic dolls, and even wooden dolls for holidays. Sammy thought she'd make her sister a doll that was actually family-made.

Sammy had spent hours at work, knitting and knitting. She worked hard, put her heart and soul into this one doll. She spent a few hours looking for the perfect colors for the hair, and then finding buttons for the eyes. Ocean blue, like the girl's real eyes. Sometimes, Sammy never got any sleep and forced herself to keep going.

Every day, Sammy studied her work. She felt like it had to be perfect, and almost ended up with blood all over her fingers from poking herself with the needle. That was just a thing she'd have to get used to. Maybe if Amy saw this, Sammy would be seen as more than a slave. She'd actually be loved.

Amy never saw her sister's work. She didn't even go into her sister's room, but why would she when she had so many things Sammy didn't have? But Sammy was grateful for that. She felt like every time she hurt herself in the process of making the doll, it was a knife to her heart. The blood would be her tears, but her heart was crying.

Amy never would see it, actually. At least, not until it was too late. Amy constantly abused Sammy, using her for everything from test answers to lunch money. She unfortunately wasn't aware that she was killing her sister, inside and out.

One day, the girls' birthday, Sammy came down the steps from the attic. She held the doll behind her back, being sure not to ruin the red and white dress, blue button eyes, or honey blond yarn hair. She walked up to Amy, almost scared.

"Uh... Amy?"

Amy turned around, glaring at her sister. "What is it, Sparemy?'

Sammy slowly held out the doll. " I made this for your birthday, if you want it. There's a note in the-" Before Sammy could finsh, she was pushed down. Amy was furiosly kicking and slapping Sammy, talking about how Sammy ruined everything. By the time she was done, Sammy's lip was bleeding, there were bruises all over her arms and legs, and Sammy was unconscious.

Amy started to freak out. While her parents didn't mind Amy taking control of Sammy, they also didn't want to get in trouble for abusing a child too much. If they saw Sammy, they'd freak.

Amy shook Sammy, scared and worried. She still didn't see the doll in Sammy's hand, and tried to wake her sister up. "Get up, I didn't mean to..." Amy trailed off, but was slowly crying as Sammy still lay there motionless.

In a panic, Amy grabbed the nearest phone and dialed 911. "Hello? I just may have killed my own sister, please help!"

The ambulance was over there in a matter of minutes. Along the way, Amy insisted on riding with Sammy. She held her hand the whole way to the hospital, and still didn't let go when they arrived. The walk into the emergency room was filled with tears and panic.

"I didn't mean to! It's all my fault. Sammy was only trying to give me a birthday present." Amy explained tearfully what was going on. "I promise I never meant for any of this!"

The doctor tried to calm Amy down. "We've got your sister attached to machines now. Samey, is it?"

Amy shook her head. "People who get hooked up to machines die! And it's Sammy."

"Not all the time, Amy. And on her birth certificate her name is Samey."

"That was me! I changed her name!"

The doctor, in a last desperate attempt to calm Amy down, requested that Amy see her sister. Amy followed a nurse up an elevator, and into a room. Sammy was laying there, machines all around her. Amy could hear a steady beep from them, meaning Sammy was still alive.

"I'm sorry! I never should have done that, I should have taken your gift! It's my fault you're here. I don't think I can ever forgive myself! Please wake up!"

Amy suddenly saw her sister's eye move the tiniest bit. She cautiously asked, "Sammy?" but nothing happened.

That only made Amy tear up more. She screamed out loud, "Please wake up! I'll never trear you badly again!'

A young-looking nurse entered the room. " Amy?"

"What? Will she be okay?"

"Not exactly. We called her parents and they told us they may not have the money to pay for the bill." The nurse's eyes were red with tears. "We have an hour left for her to wake up, or we unhook the machines."

Amy gripped her sister's hand. "No!"

"Yes. We're very sorry."

Amy looked at Sammy, then at her other hand. All this time, Sammy's handmade doll had been in her hand. "If you want it." Those had been Sammy's words before she gave the doll to her.

Amy cried more when she saw it. Nobody had done this for her before. No one had taken the time to spend hours poking themselves with a needle and picking the perfect buttons for eyes. They gave Amy things that didn't need to be made.

"I'm sorry!" Amy looked down at the doll, and at Sammy.

As if by magic, Sammy's eyes opened. She looked at Amy, confused and then saw Amy was holding the doll.

'Amy?"

Amy tightly hugged Sammy when she saw she was alive. "You're alive!"

"I am." Sammy hugged Amy back, and asked, "Do you like the doll?"

"It's perfect, Sammy. Thank you.'