The Doll My Sister Left Behind

Leaving here, our home, to go overseas, my sister left many things behind, including this baby doll that I think one of her friends gave her. This was years ago, and now I’m here, in our home, and I can’t help but feel freaked out by this doll. It could be because I just have a natural dislike for these kinds of dolls, that’s why I get freaked out by it. But it feels like it’s watching me. Its unmoving eyes, following me around the room. Sometimes, I turn it away from me, and make it face the window. Just so I don’t have to see its face and painted blue eyes. But somehow, some time later I can return to the room and find it facing elsewhere. Freaky, no?

I don’t feel so freaked out anymore, but I still wouldn’t take that thing out of the bottle it’s in and hug it. Oh, I didn’t mention the bottle? It’s in this huge milk bottle, which it of course came in. And it’s wearing baby clothes, even has a little toy. A natural blonde too. My sister probably got freaked out by it too, or maybe she just didn’t like it, that’s why she didn’t take it with her. I took it out the other day, and some parts of its clothes are yellowed from age. HOLD UP.

It’s staring at me. It just turned. To stare at me. IT’S STARING AT ME. IT’S STARING AT ME! I TOLD YOU IT MOVES! I KNEW I HAD A REASON TO BE AFRAID! TO BE FREAKED OUT! AHHH!!! IT’S LOOKING AT ME AND IT’S POINTING! POINTING! Pointing? Why would it be pointing? Does its finger have some kind of special power? Magic? MAGIC??? CALM DOWN. Calm down. Okay, hey help me out here. What could it be pointing at? Hm? Take a guess. Me? Nah. Not me. The bookshelf behind me? Not that either. A monster? Could be. A MONSTER?! Sheesh… don’t scare me. It’s just pointing at another doll. Yep. Just another doll. ANOTHER DOLL???!!! ANOTHER FREAKY ALIVE DOLL?!?!?!

I-it’s standing there… on the floor. Glaring up at me with a pair of painted bright blue eyes. Her porcelain face and body looks so fragile. Her clothes are so old fashioned. We don’t have a doll like that. WE DON’T HAVE A DOLL LIKE THAT??? THEN WHERE THE HECK DID IT APPEAR FROM??? AND WHY WAS MY SISTER’S DOLL POINTING AT IT???!!! SOMEBODY SAY SOMETHING!!!

“Hey. You mute or something?” She said. Okay, not what I was asking for. I stayed silent. Speechless. One of her painted eyebrows went up. I never knew that was possible!

“Tsk. You really are mute, huh? That sucks. Doesn’t suck as bad as being a doll though.” She continued talking. My eyes widened. I really didn’t know what to say to this doll. How do you talk to a DOLL?!

“I-I’m n-not mute. I just… don’t know what to say to a doll that doesn’t belong here which talks and walks. And whose eyebrows and eyes can move.”

“Oh? So the mute speaks.” She gave me a fake surprised look as if to tell me she knew all along I could speak.

“Who are you and how are you able to… talk?”

“Easy,” She grinned, “I’m a cursed doll.”