The Doll speaks to me. “We are different” she says.
I nod in agreement.
“They don’t like us because we are different” says The Doll.
I shake my head.
She stares at me with her inquisitive green eyes. I can feel them burrowing deep into my mind.
“Are we friends?” asks The Doll.
I sit for a moment and consider her question.
When The Doll first arrived I sat underneath my desk and watched her green eyes glow in the dark. I panicked at what I saw in them. So I crawled out and locked her away in the toy box.
People used to whisper about the things they claimed to see in my eyes. My father panicked at what he saw and locked me away in the attic.
The Doll used to sit with the other dolls at the pretend toy tea party. She tried to join in. It didn’t work out as the other dolls didn’t understand her.
I tried to join in with life inside the house. It didn’t work out as no one understood me.
The Doll lives alone on the top floor of the dolls house. She has an entire floor to herself with a dolls bed, a wardrobe and a dressing table. Even though she has lots of space The Doll chooses to live underneath the dressing table.
I live alone in the attic. Even though I have a bed, a desk, a toy box and enough space to run around I choose to live underneath my desk in the darkness.
The Doll first spoke to me after I asked her why she was crying. She said she felt different to everyone else and alone in the world. I told her I felt the same.
Once I awoke to discover that The Doll had attacked the other dolls at the pretend tea party. The other dolls lay awkwardly in a heap with messy hair and haunted eyes.
Once The Doll awoke to screams, shouting and people running away from me. They all had messy hair and haunted eyes.
I offered support to The Doll when the other dolls decided to move out of the dolls house. They called The Doll ‘a monster‘ and said she should live on her own.
The Doll was there to comfort me when big metal bolts were fixed to my attic door to stop me escaping. People shouted through the door that I would never be allowed out of my room as I am ‘a monster‘.
The Doll’s eyes start to glow. I am no longer scared of what I can see.
“We are the best of friends” I say. The Doll nods in agreement.
Happy Thursday all!
You can all blame Photopin for this story. This photo made me feel uncomfortable from the moment I saw it. I just knew I had to write something unsettling. The look of that green eyed doll makes me feel a bit strange and no one mention the little blonde haired doll with the blood shot eyes!
The story is based on one of the characters from the book that I am writing called ‘The Hidden’. I tried to imagine what she (Carrie) would be like as a child in view of her upbringing.
Normal light hearted stuff will now resume on Blondewritemore.
photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/44124362019@N01/2256525041″>R1066925</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>(license)</a>