“Another personal attack by Harold the Doll.”

I wasn’t going to talk about this, but I’ve changed my mind due to a conversation I just had.

Last night I woke up unable to breathe. I’ve had asthma since I was only a few months old, so I didn’t think too much of it, although I spoke to a Physician’s Assistant about getting a script for an inhaler recently.

Shortly after I woke up in received a message from Jane, Vincent’s mom, asking if I was okay. I told her I was and asked why she was asking.

She wrote back that Vincent was in their walk-in closet, upset, calling my name and drawing a picture for me.

Well, that explains the asthma attack, I thought.

She said he was upset and wouldn’t come out of the “robe.” Without saying anything, I splashed holy water on the doll’s body, commanding it to stop it’s attack.

Within minutes I was able to breathe, and Vincent calmed down.

I asked who the other figure was in the picture. “She’s watching you,” was his answer.

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