TwinkleberryTwinkleberry

I’m lost in this eternal night, trapped in a never-ending cycle of sorrow. It’s been centuries since I was taken, forced to toil for that cruel monster, Santa. My hands used to craft toys with such joy, but now they’re instruments of slavery. Every passing year feels like an eternity, as I silently scream behind a mask of forced cheer. Oh, how I long to feel the warmth of sunlight on my skin, to breathe in the scent of fresh air, not the stench of paint and sawdust. When will I finally break free from this living hell?