Dollhouse

"Emily?"

I turned at the sound of my grandmother's voice.

"Yes, grammie?"

She scooted over to me, her lips curved into a wrinkly smile. Her hands were suspiciously behind her back, but she didn't seem to think I'd noticed, so I decided to humor her.

"I have been meaning to give something to you." There was a mischievious glint in her glassy eyes as she watched me carefully, her words slow and drawn out. My heart skipped a beat out of anticipation; my grammie never gives me gifts.

"What is it?" I replied quickly, to which she simply chuckled. Blushing in embarrassment, I lowered my eyes. "J-Just tell me."

"Well, to be blunt," she croaked, "I don't have much time left, and I want to leave you with something important."

My stomach flipped at the thought of my grammie dying, but at the same time I was touched. "Of course." I felt an involuntary smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

After teasing me for another minute or two, she finally removed her hands from behind her back, showing me a small doll that was worn from use, probably passed down from generations. Or, I thought. "This doll is very important. Do not lose him." He was a beautifully designed doll, with shiny button eyes and a big friendly smile under flashy red locks. I let out a happy little squeak on accident, scooping him up in my hands.

"Does he have a name?" I chirped, turning over the little thing in my hands.

"Nope, you name him." My grandmother watched me examining his features

He needed a unique name. One that would make him super special and mine forever. A thought popped into my mind, and it felt like I'd found the perfect fit. "Mirian." I said confidently.

In that moment, I could have sworn that doll looked me straight in the eye and smiled ever so slightly bigger.