Young six year old Reina stood, staring at the tiny doll that was displayed in her grandmother's glass case. It was an antique, she had been told a million times, and was not made for children to play with. Not even her parents were allowed to touch it. Still, curiosity burned in Reina's veins, as she stared intently at the well crafted figure.
The doll was about the size of a Barbie, if a little smaller. It was made of wood, with a painted on face. It wore a faded orange dress, fashioned in a Victorian style with lots of lace and a dainty corset around the thing's waist, and had a wig of curly blonde hair that went down to its hips. Reina had always been fascinated by its worn beauty, and how after so many years it was still an object of great importance to somebody.
And something about it made it hard for Reina to look away.
"Looking at my doll again?"
Reina turned to see her grandmother, standing at the doorway of the room, a faint smile of my face. She nodded, "yes, but I was only looking, I didn't touch it. I know I'm not supposed to touch it. "
Her grandmother sighed and walked to her side. She reached into the case and brought out the doll, handing it to Reina. "I think it's about time I passed it on."
As she looked around, Reina saw that her grandmother had vanished, and remembered why her family had come to the home in the first place. Her grandmother had died last month, and they were cleaning out her house.
Frowning, Reina ran back to her car, and hid the doll discreetly underneath the seats. For some reason, she didn't want anybody to know about what had happened. And she didn't think that her parents would be happy to hear she had taken the doll.
Sighing, she went back inside, unaware that she had just changed the course of her life.