.　　　
.　　　　　　I began to understand what I Charlotte was meant to be.
.　　　　　　Not a hero, not a savior—just something small in a very strange world.
.　　　　　　A doll placed carefully inside a story that was never truly hers.
.　　　　　　The watchers observe, the puppeteer guides, and she keeps walking anyway.
.　　　　　　Because that’s what dolls do when someone pulls the strings.
.　　　　　　Just like a *“Disposable Doll”*
.　　　　　　A reminder that some people are not meant to last.
.　　　　　　They exist to be used, to break, and to be replaced.
.　　　　　　And I keeps moving forward through it all.
.　　　　　　Like a doll that was never meant to choose—
.　　　　　　Only to be played with, and eventually thrown away.