"This must be a joke." Valerie muttered and as she stepped closer, her vision slowly getting blurry. She couldn't see straight but she wanted to get to Frankie and kept walking.
She wanted to confirm if this was a joke or a dream. It had to be one of them.
But the closer she got, the more her vision got hazy and the more she lost her senses. But funny enough, she was still approaching the dolls and she finally got to Frankie.
She touched her face. It was cold and she was pale, just like a doll.
"What happened, Frankie? Why are you sleeping in between these dolls?" Valerie asked.
In a situation like this, the first thing one's heart would feel is 'denial'.
"Did you plan to surprise me but fell asleep halfway?" She asked, refusing to believe that Frankie was dead. "And this knife," her hands trembled as she reached out to hold the knife. "It looks so real. How much effort did you put into this?"
