Sorry guys, this is taking a new direction. I'm starting over. Many things will be the same, but a lot will change...sorry.
Didn't wind the music box, now you're gonna get it. Such a shame, no doors to lock. HERE COMES THE PUPPET
She could see nothing beyond her own hands; the darkness was all-consuming. She could remember only a boy, a boy that had claimed to love her. The other children hadn't wanted to play with her. They had locked her out of her...home. Perhaps not her home, per say, but somewhere close to it. A boy had died there a few days before...Her father had been so upset.
She found herself in a tangled mess, her limbs longer than usual, tangled among themselves. She could not move her face, and could not speak. Voices were outside her seeming prison, talking about a murder. Her murder.
Crying internally, she tried to move. She was dead, and yet she was here. Her eyes roved around the space she was trapped in, certain that the walls were caving in on her. She froze. Her arms were long and thin, with black and white stripes. Looking to the other side, she saw her thin, black and white striped legs. The truth slowly dawned on her.
She was the Marionette.
She had somehow become her father's greatest work; an animatronic(?) Marionette that responded to children, giving gifts as prizes to games. If she had any blood in her robotic body, it would have boiled. She was furious.
Her murderer would DIE.