Porcelain Ballerina Music Box Cracked Glow

I found a box in the attic. Wooden. Skulls carved on the corners. A crank on the side that still turns.

Too late. Something came out. White. Cracked. One leg raised like it's dancing. It glows from the inside where the cracks are.

The lid is closed. She's still out. The wallpaper behind her has faces. Same face. Repeating. Torn at the edges. The floor is wood. The room is dark. The crank keeps turning even though I let go.

I'm not sure. The box is on my phone screen. She's looking at me. Her arms are open. Not welcoming. Just posed. The music hasn't started yet but I can hear it anyway.