When I was born, I wasn't much different than I am now. Aside from the hole in my neck and the two braces holding up my head, I looked the exact same.

Back then I had something to look forward to every day. Every day, my creator would come over to me, hold me tenderly, and fix me up. First they gave me a body, then an eye, and then my heart.

I still remember the day that I was given my heart... the look on their face was so loving as they stitched it into me.

Then, one day, they didn't come. My mind reeled with why, what might have happened to them, until much later, when I resigned to just waiting for them to return.

I was sitting there, waiting for my creator to come back, for a long time. Finally, one day, they returned! Something was different, though, and they picked me up roughly and gave me to someone else. All I could do was watch with my one eye as this new person took scissors and cut my neck open. And oh, did it hurt...

Then they inserted these two braces that are now keeping my head on my body, and handed me back to my creator.

I probably would have cried from the pain if I had the tears to, and jumped in my creator's arms if I had the arms to, but I didn't (and still don't), so I simply found myself being passed from this person back to my creator.

After that, I was left on a table with dozens of other unfinished creations. I never saw my creator again, but every once in a while something new would be added to the pile on the table, until finally I was buried and forgotten.