Historias Cortas B1: My doll

When I was an infant, I got a rag doll.

It was a very plain, little doll, and it wore a clown outfit and a clown's hat.

I used to take that doll to bed with me every night.

I couldn't go to bed without my doll.

My mother used to pretend that the doll was talking to me.

She would make the doll dance and sing songs.

I would talk to the doll.

My mother would answer for the doll, but I was a baby,

and I thought that the doll was actually talking to me.

That doll was my best friend.

I took her everywhere.

One time I took her to a store with me, and I left her on a shelf in the store.

We were halfway home when I realized that I didn't have my doll with me.

I was very upset.

My mother and I rushed back to the store.

My doll was still there. I was so relieved.

I hugged my doll, and I promised myself that I would never leave her anywhere again.

I couldn't imagine life without that doll.

Through the years, the doll became less important in my life.

I had other things to do, but the doll still sat on my bed during the day,

and I still took it to bed at night.

I gave that doll a lot of love when I was little.

In fact, I loved that doll so much that she looks tattered and torn now.

There are parts of her face and hands that are almost worn away.

I had a lot of other toys when I was little,

but none of them were ever so important as that doll.

I don't play with toys anymore,

but that doll is still in my room.

She sits in a special chair in the corner.

I'll always have that doll.

No matter how worn out she is,

I'll always keep her and cherish her as part of my early childhood.