"Brittle bones, brittle bones.." She whispered, close to insanity.
"I play with your brittle bones, brittle bones my dolly."
Her voice is hauntingly chilling as I gaze upon her empty stare. Her eyes, so dark and cold. Too dark, too cold. Especially for a child.
I could hear her whispering, singing her sadistic songs. She was slowly taking apart a small doll, piece by piece.
All I could do was stare. I didn't know what to make of this young girl. She sat there, in her little white dress, bow in her long dark hair. I couldn't imagine the things that were going on in her head.
Thats when she looked up.
"I play with your brittle bones dolly, do you like the way they break?" Her eerie voice reached my ears as I watched her maliciously rip the head of the doll.
A strange smile graced her aristocratic features, a crazy glint entering her eyes.
She giggled, and spoke to me.
"I play with your brittle bones my dolly.."
Thats when I noticed the doll was me.

credit to http://www.xanga.com/beatdown_babyy