 When Andrea first saw us, it was love at first sight, and the feeling was entirely mutual. We were elated when she adopted us and seamlessly began referring to her as our mother. She made us feel loved, which is something we've never previously experienced other than among ourselves. Andrea, or mommy as we referred to her, gave us new everything, clothes, toys, and friends to play with, even our own room and the beautiful condo where we lived. Her friends always made a big fuss over us whenever they visited, complimenting on how cute we looked in our matching outfits. Their favorites were these light orange shirts and dark blue suspenders that had light pink hearts which displayed our abbreviated names, Andy, Randy, and Sandy. The fact that mommy made them herself are why those outfits were so meaningful and made us really excited whenever she picked them out for us to wear. We especially enjoyed when any of mommy's friends came over with kids our own age. We'd have so much fun spending hours playing games like house and hide and seek, but my favorites were the ones made up on the spot. She'd confide her deepest secrets and lamented about her problems whenever she'd sleep in our room or vice versa. She's saying how much it meant for us to just listen. Mommy even took us to her job a few times where we received nothing but compliments from her coworkers. We grew extremely attached to Andrea during those first few months and new mommy's sentiments were the same. Each of us thought this seemingly unbreakable bond with her would last forever. One that we strongly cherished and were eternally grateful to have. We were mommy's little angels for the first time in our young lives. Me and my siblings felt like we were part of a true family. That all changed when mommy started seeing Tim. Apparently, he'd worked in the same building as mommy's job and they would frequently talk if they ever bumped into each other during the workday. Tim was a computer programmer, but his biggest passion was sports, namely the major ones like baseball, hockey, football, and basketball. He was especially into stats and analytics, namely the highly advanced ones which he used to gauge the value or track progress of a player or team. He wrote a few different sports blogs but rarely posted any content. Tim was primarily focused on his social media accounts where he did have a large following and engaged in heated discussions where he tried to prove people wrong and make them see things his way. There's no denying Tim's formidable wealth of knowledge on these topics, but he was a pompous know-it-all and had a monstrous ego. According to Tim, his outlook was the only acceptable way to properly interpret a scenario or back an opinion with facts. As more time passed, I noticed this defective trait of his applied to practically everything he did in addition to his profound sports analysis. He was constantly correcting or critiquing mommy on everything to the point where it was affecting her confidence and overall morale. Tim was a very condescending individual and seemed to take pleasure at correcting and lecturing mommy on the right way of doing something or even how to think. He knew he was ultimately conditioning her to be just like him and it concerned us when she vented about Tim's overly abrasive and controlling qualities, especially when mommy became convinced that she actually needed what she called Tim's necessary discipline in her life. Even some of her friends tried advocating for mommy to break it off with him, but she gave them the same bland excuse. He's good for me. She would always say, sounding like a robotic recording during each instance. He gives me structure, companionship, and discipline, things I've never had in my life before that I need to become a better person. Tim wasn't a big fan of us either and seemed quite jealous of the love and attention we got from mommy. Whenever he would use the computer in our bedroom, Tim would kick us out until he was finished, saying we made him feel uncomfortable, whatever that means. The three of us were powerless to stop mommy from continuing to see Tim or at least bring to her attention how toxic his belittling dominion seeking personality was becoming. She went from being loving and vivacious to a timid shell of her former self that questioned everything she did and said, especially with Tim. It got worse when Tim started spending nights, which eventually turned into stays lasting weekends or days at a time. Tim's influence slowly encroached into our home from how the furniture was arranged to what foods he wanted mommy to cook or shows they watched. We grew extremely fed up with Tim's unrelenting impositions and neared our breaking point when mommy told us the Tim was not only moving in, he wanted to make our room into an office or as he called it, his analytics station, Tim's going to become part of our little family. Mommy told us one night with a tone of blatantly forced enthusiasm in her voice. We'll be more complete now than we were before. We brandished our smiles when mommy relate us the news, but we're boiling with anger and concern on the inside. All three of us could tell just by looking in mommy's eyes that deep down, she didn't want Tim moving into our home. Their relationship took such a toll on her that mommy genuinely felt she actually needed Tim to function in all aspects in life. We decided to act when he brutally berated mommy one night after she reorganized the linen closet but missed one minor detail among Tim's specific convoluted instructions. She locked herself in our room where we tried soothing her and she held us tightly during which Tim continued lecturing her from the other side of the door. What repulsed me the most were the petty apology acts Tim would pull whenever they fought that one mommy over every single time he was breaking our mommy if she wasn't already in shambles. Considering how warm giving and personable mommy was seeing her treated this way while those lovable aspects about her slowly deteriorated was overwhelmingly objectionable. That was when we decided to get rid of Tim by any means necessary. All we needed was for him to give us an opening. Me and my siblings formulated a plan and gathered the materials we needed for its implementation, a roller skate for mommy's days playing roller hockey and a kitchen knife. All we had to do then was wait for our chance. It came one day when mommy left to run some errands after quadruple checking with Tim that everything she'd listed was accurate. Once she left, Tim put some boxes of his belongings into our room and smirked as he walked up to the three of us. Enjoy it while it's still yours. By the month's end, this room is going to be my domain. Tim said arrogantly, his face scrunching when he put a special emphasis on the word my as he spoke in his deep voice, you'll be more out of the way wherever I wind up putting you three. Everything about Tim was always excruciatingly unbearable at that moment. It took every ounce of self-restraint I had from smashing that enormous beak like nose. Just looking at Tim sent my mind into a frenzy. He had this thin face with a curved narrow chin, large cheekbones, and a massive nose that seemed two sizes too big for his head. He wore black framed glasses over his small light green eyes. Always had some sort of sports hat covering his short dark grayish brown hair and had this exasperating habit of constantly keeping his mouth slightly parted, revealing his rose of yellowish white tea. Simply put, he had an extraordinarily punchable face, one I spent nights on end pondering how someone as smart and bright as mommy could have taken such a liking. With a slight snort, Tim laughed at his own words as he left our room and sat in the den. Our bedroom was located directly across, which gave us a clear view of Tim. He kept flipping between a few different games and frantically typing on his laptop, most likely making a slew of social media posts that coincided with whatever he was watching. Tim was consumed with his pretend life as a wannabe pro sports analyst, so we knew he wouldn't notice when we dispersed to put our plan into motion. While Sandra entered the kitchen to make the distraction, I retrieved the knife we previously concealed in between the mattress and box spring. Randall took the roller skate and hid in the hallway closet, which was about halfway between the den and kitchen. I remained in the bedroom and would emerge when Tim responded to the impending crash. Sandra did just what she promised and pushed over the glass vase sitting on the kitchen table. It made a loud shatter that instantly got Tim's attention, who shot upright and asked what the hell that sound was out loud to himself. Soon as he walked past our bedroom, I stepped out into the hallway tightly clutching the knife, making sure to remain roughly 70 or so inches behind Tim, his approximate height. My footsteps were very quiet and calculated. So Tim was totally unaware I was trailing closely behind. I managed to keep up with his hasty urgent steps, but started getting nervous, thinking Tim might reach the kitchen before Sandra could get into position. Fortunately, Sandra, being the reliable individual she was, had gotten ready in time. Tim was three or four feet from the kitchen entrance when Sandra stepped into view, causing him to freeze mid-step. What? Was all Tim could say as he exchanged stares with Sandra, who wore a widened smile and slowly canted her head while she started waving at Tim. Looking like he knew something was amiss, he slowly started backing up, making sure not to take his eyes off Sandra. Tim was so focused on her, he didn't even notice the closet door nudge open wide enough for Randall to push out the roller skate, which slid directly into his path. Tim released a fearful yelp-like shriek upon tripping over it. The foot stepping on it shot out forward while the rest of his body jerked back, causing him to immediately lose his balance. Twisting 180 degrees as he fell, I still maintained that precise distance behind Tim and firmly held the kitchen knife vertically in point with its pointed blade aimed toward the ceiling. My precision was on point. The knife's entire blade and part of its handle effortlessly sank through Tim's left eye, its serrated tip bursting through the back of his head. A loud smack-like crunch signified the impact his face made when it slammed onto the floor. All was silent after that, as we gathered around Tim's stiff, twitching body, watching the blood seep out from under his butchered face and collect around his head. The most gratifying part for me, aside from how enormously successful we were at pulling this off, was the monstrosity of a nose Tim had got absolutely smashed during the fall. She looked like a crumpled, bloodied accordion tightly wedged between his face and the floor. Mommy reacted exactly how we expected when she returned home. After a spree of incessant frantic hollering and wailing, she broke into hysterics and just barely managed to hold it together enough when she called 911. The police and paramedics arrived quickly, along with mommy's parents and some of her friends. She was severely traumatized by the incident and completely inconsolable, although part of me thinks some of those tears were of relief that she was out of Tim's shadow, possibly joy. She eventually came in our room to step away from the commotion and hugged us tightly. In between her soft sobs and sniffles, mommy kept mumbling about how she couldn't and didn't want to believe this was happening. Two police officers, an older and younger one, entered the bedroom saying they were ready for mommy to make her statement. Still sobbing, we watched her step back into the hallway with the older police officer. It truly hurt to see mommy like this and we felt absolutely horrible for doing what we did, but knew it was for the best. Tim was slowly eating away at mommy from the inside and making her a totally different person. Even if she tried ending things herself, Tim would probably find a way to twist her words and turn the tables or convince mommy that that's not what she actually wanted. The pain was fresh now, but we knew she would heal quickly. Mommy was a strong person and we hoped she'd rejoice at the aspect of things going back to normal with our little family. The younger police officer stayed in the room and was staring at us intently while me and my siblings sat on the bed. He seemed fixated on a particular detail about us and had a growingly suspicious look in his eye that made me extremely uneasy, which was something I thought he sensed. What the hell are you still doing in here? The older police officer asked the younger one when they walked back in the room with mommy. The younger officer continued watching us closely for a couple more seconds before replying. Doesn't something just seem off about him? He asked softly. I tensed. What are you talking about? The older police officer asked out loud, seemingly irritated at what his colleague was saying. I don't know. The young officer said, squinting as he leaned in closer, making me increasingly convinced we were about to be compromised. I can't quite put my finger on it. The older officer looked like he quickly ran out of patience and hastily started guiding the younger officer back towards the door, which filled me with relief. I nearly chuckled when I heard what the older police officer said to his younger colleague as they left the room. Well, there's plenty to do out here that you can put your finger on. I'm not sure what you found so fascinating about them. They're just dolls.