The Doll that just won't Go

She lay in her bed, scared.

She knew it would come again tonight; every morning her mum 

would put it inside a carton down in the basement but somehow 

it always found its way back to her room by midnight. 

How it did that she never knew.

It was a two feet tall dark-haired plastic doll with large unblinking black eyes, dressed in a red frock and plastic white shoes. She had received it from old Aunt Verna two years ago on her sixth birthday.

Everybody thought it was the quaint cutest thing.

Everybody but her.

For some reason she had never taken a fancy to the dreadful old doll. Maybe it was the way its big black eyes stared at her unblinkingly or maybe it was the way it walked when (it thought) no one was watching, like it had a life of its own. She was never sure of which.

But she had a new doll now; one with pretty fluffy hair and beautiful blinking brown eyes. One that she loved, that didn’t creep her out. But it didn’t get the message that she had moved on to a new doll…no, it just wouldn’t let go.

She heard its tiny footsteps, pit, pat, pit, pat…in those little 

plastic shoes coming up the stairs to her bedroom. 

Mother was asleep and couldn’t hear it.

Only her could.

Her bedroom door opened ever so gently with a soft creaking sound. 

Though it was dark, she could make out the shadow of its horrifying 

heady figure, trying to squeeze itself through the ajar space. 

And in spite of the narrow gap, it succeeded.

She shut her eyes tightly and wished she could sleep immediately instead she felt its smooth cold form getting into bed beside her and tucking itself in; its large unblinking stare, almost boring a hole into her forehead.

Too scared to open her eyes, she soon fell asleep.

********************************************

In the morning, as usual her mother came to wake her up for school and was surprised to find Aunt Verna’s old doll in the bed. Even more surprising was that the prettier new doll was on the floor… as if knocked over.

This happened every morning and she could only wonder how it got there. 

She turned the back of the older doll, opened it and sighed; 

it still had its alkaline-cell batteries.

They were Duracell, sorry…DURACELL PLUS®.

She left them inside and took the doll downstairs, back to the basement.

 

It smiled.

Some things were never meant to die…

                                               Photo cred: Bastet2329