When I was like 7 to 9 I was afraid of that thing that happened in a Supernatural episode: my favorite doll becoming sentient and sad because he doesn't get free will and (amongst other stuff) only likes me because he's supposed to, he says what I want him to say, how could I do that to him? Worst case scenario, he was "awake" but still trapped in his vinyl body.
I remember this secondhand existential crisis vividly.
I remember this secondhand existential crisis vividly.