A bag, hastily buried in a shallow sandy grave. Inside the bag, a gruesome story waiting to be told. A subtle but undeniable horror tries to wriggle itself through the cracks of age. Unaware, you lift the bag and take it inside, open it and then you see the doll, Amy’s doll, Poppet. You pick up the doll and clear the sand off her dress. You hesitate, contemplating, was that even a good idea? Maybe not. You turn the doll around to inspect it a bit more. It seems innocent..

And so you begin to unravel the story, Amy’s story. A girl, struggling through a difficult time, with the doll being her only confidante. Amy feels lost and lonely in the world. After moving with her father to a new city, he leaves her in the convent boarding school. Amy is not like the rest of the children at the boarding school. The other girls don’t want to play with her. She is bullied by them, while her father becomes increasingly distant. Poor Amy spends her days in her small room, continuously playing with her doll, which she calls Poppet. The doll is her only friend.

Seemingly Poppet keeps the ghosts, bullies and loneliness far away. But is the figurine really Amy’s friend, or is there more to her than meets the eye?