Today I am going to do something a little different and I am going to let my imagination tell this story. This story goes out to one of my readers that reached out to me last night. So E.M.F. this is for you!

The house sat in the center of the cup-de-sac in the development. The development was built on old farm land. The little family that resides in the house has three children, a girl, a boy and another girl. During Halloween time the corn fields are tall and it made the neighborhood look ominous because the corn fields encircled  the development. Everywhere you looked was tall rustling corn stalks as far as the eye could see. A strange occurrence happens during the fall when the temperature drops, the birds fly south and this house sat right within the migratory path. The swarms of blackbirds were so thick it would block out the sun. The youngest child asked why there were so many birds in the backyard?

“They are traveling to their winter home in Florida!” her beautiful, charming, and incredibly funny mother explained  “They are dropping in for a bite to eat.”

“Are these the old people birds?” the small girl asks

The mother chuckles and says “Well some of them are but they all travel together like a big happy family!”

“Do they go to Disney when they are there?” small little angel asks.

“Probably! I would!” mother replies.

“I would too!” the little girl states, “Can I bring my American girl doll with me to the doctors?”

“Yep! Go get it and we will head out.” Mother is just sad that the poor little dear needs to see the doctors so much. The child is small for her age and suffers terribly with headaches and stomach problems. She loves her American girl doll and it can comfort her when she has her blood tests.

The doctor’s appointment went well and they were heading back home when a man drives them off the road and he has a gun pointed at the mother’s head. She takes the next exit and she calls her husband. The phone goes directly to voicemail. She is too shaken to leave a message. She just wanted someone to talk to. She checks the time and it is getting late and she needs to go get her other children from school.

She smiles at her little one who was sleeping in the back, tired from the doctor’s appointment. She drives to the school and picks up the other children, all the while trying to forget what just happened. She convinces herself that she was overreacting because she has been told that is who she is. So she continues on her day without giving it a second thought.

“How was your day kids?” Mother asks still rattled by what just happened.

“It was school.” the son grumbles.

“What was your favorite part of school?” mother asks

“Lunch was good, we had pizza!” son smiles.

“I got an A on my test.” oldest daughter says.

“That’s awesome.” mother replies.

“Why do you let her drag this creepy doll everywhere!” oldest daughter states and picks the doll up by her hair and drops it behind the seat.

“Because it comforts her.” mother says.

The little one is still asleep in her car seat.

“How did the doctor’s appointment go?” oldest daughter asks.

“It was good. She was so brave.” mother smiles because she knows how much her children love each other. They are all so kind to one another.

“Did they do more tests?” oldest daughter who is destined to go into medicine asks.

“They did blood tests and x-rays!” Mother smiles. “They will call later with the results.”

That night at bedtime the youngest couldn’t find her doll and she can’t go to bed without her. Mother searches the entire house and remembers that it is still in the car. She walks out to her car and in the country, surrounded by all of that corn, with no street lights, she tries to remain brave. Bravery is not this mother’s strength. She had been plagued by the worst imagination around. She would tell herself, if you are going to make shit up why not good things, like I’m probably going  to win the lottery. But instead her imagination was more like werewolves are probably real and living in that corn field surrounding your house. She frightens herself good and plenty by the time she finds the doll. Phew, now time to run into the house and lock everything up. As she was running into the house she hears the corn husks rustle and she moves at top speed. She jams the button on the garage door knowing that all a werewolf would have to do is stick his foot out for the sensor and that would stop the door from closing. Her heartbeat quickened and she twisted the door handle and listened to the garage door for any disturbance. She made it in her home safely. No werewolves or any other monster got her this time. It must be because she is so clever and quick.

“What happened out there?” her son asks noticing the pure panic on her face.

“Nothing!” she answers, she knows that she looks shit scared but she is just being silly that’s all. She laughs at herself and she said “I heard the corn husks rustle in the breeze and it scared me.” She laughs again loudly. The children all join in.

“Here’s your doll sweet pea! Time to get you  tucked into bed. Did you pick out your book?” Mother picks up the little one and starts to bring her to bed for the night-time ritual of reading, needing water, having to pee and the other reasons the child could conjure up so she doesn’t have to go to bed.

The phone rings. Oldest daughter “Mom, its dad!” he calls every time she is trying to put the kids to bed. She is frustrated but she is still happy that he called.

“I can read to her.” oldest daughter helpfully suggests.

The night is a success and mother is finally able to go to bed just after folding this last load of laundry. She looks at the clock and it is ten thirty, she wonders if anything good is on tv. She get’s herself tucked into bed and is searching for something interesting. She finds a comedy and falls asleep. She wakes up to the sound of whispering. In her doorway is a bedraggled girl with long dark hair covering her face and her nightgown is long and covering her feet. The American girl doll is tucked under her arm.

“Mom, can I sleep with you?” the scratchy voice whispers.

Mother brushes the child’s hair from her eyes to see that she is her daughter. Relief spreads over her when she sees her daughter’s smooth and beautiful face peeking out from all of that hair. She isn’t the girl from the ring and so yes she may sleep with her. The little one hunkers down with her mother and she holds her daughter in her arms. They both feel safe and warm and are able to get a good night’s sleep.

A couple of weeks have gone by and it is bed time again and Halloween is fast approaching. Halloween is a time in which the Earth is susceptible for super-natural happenings, such as witches getting their one night of power to wreak havoc on poor unsuspecting families that live in the middle of tall corn fields.”Mom, I don’t want to sleep with my doll anymore!” the little girl states sadly.

“Why?” mom asks.

“Because those guys,” meaning her older brother and sister, “say that she comes to life when we are sleeping. They say she is creepy.”

“Honey, they are just pulling your leg.” she doesn’t know why she even said that, because she always hated that expression. Could you imagine someone pulling your actual leg? That would be awful.

“But sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night to pee she is looking at me. Like this.” little girl makes a strange vacant doll face.

“That is creepy.” mother thinks.

“Can you put her some place? I am afraid of her.” Little one looks so worried that the only answer is yes.

“I will put her away in my closet. How does that sound?” Mother offers.

“Good!” the little girl hands the doll to her mother and walks away. Mother looks at the beautiful doll with the big blue eyes and sees why she could be a little creepy. They look real, those eyes. Like they have a soul. She takes the doll into her closet and puts her in a box and covers the doll up with a blanket because she is chicken shit and always has been. For a scaredy-cat she sure spends a lot of time reassuring her children of their safety and sleeping alone. It is times like these that she wished her husband had a typical nine to five job. She got tired of being brave all of the time. But all of the wishes in the world wouldn’t change it and she knew that. She just needed to grow up and face her fears. She closed the closet door because if that fucking doll gets up in the middle of the night she wanted to hear her coming. How much noise could that plastic doll make anyway. At least she would have to climb something and turn the knob of the closet door and hopefully that will be enough noise to wake the mother up.

She gets the children to bed. It is almost eleven o’clock and she still hasn’t heard from her husband. It must have been a long day for him. She is tired and she doesn’t even bother turning the tv on. She falls asleep quickly.

She wakes up to a strange scraping noise. She startles awake. She peers around the room in search of the sound. There it is again. It’s a scratching, but where is it coming from? The closet door handle rattles and she knows it’s that fucking creepy American Horror doll come to life. She contemplates moving. This house is nice but this is not where she wants to die and not like this. She hears the door handle rattle again and her heart is beating so hard she thinks it might beat right out of her chest. She looks at the clock and it is two-thirty in the morning. The scratching at the closet door is more persistent and she is certain that the doll is more than likely going to get it open. She looks around the room for something to use to protect herself with. Why does she always seem to be fighting possessed dolls all by herself. In most horror stories there is a man there to save the beautiful heroine. That’s when she decides that when there isn’t a man in the story the women is bad ass. Like Sigourney Weaver! That must mean that she was actually made to kick some serious possessed doll’s ass. Like her bad ass mofo grandma. So she grabs her glass of water and she goes to the closet door and she turns the doorknob slowly. All the while feeling faint because bad ass mofo is not really what she is made of . She is made of hurry up and run and maybe sacrifice the house in the process. But no, She is the heroine in this haunted story. She is the one who will save her family from grave peril tonight. There will be stories written on the internet about her bravery. These tales will be told for generations to come by perhaps E.M.F. to her beautiful baby boy, about the great heroism of his great-aunt a descendant of Grandma the baddest mofo  with her NyQuil tonic and her steely demeanor. Yes, it is finally this mother’s time to face the horrors in her closest and throw this glass of water on that horrible bitch of a doll who has terrorized her baby girl all of these months.

She slowly turns the knob and pulls the door open and what happened next almost was too much to bear. Her poor heart, did I mention that she has a heart murmur. She really wasn’t made to be a heroine. She has asthma and scoliosis and a heart murmur, does that sound like a fucking heroine to you. I don’t remember wonder woman taking a break mid-asskicking to puff her inhaler. But there she was ready for action with her glass of water, wheezing wildly when her cat bounds out of the closet with a meow thanking her. She screams throws the glass of water into the closet, yes glass and all and she looks to see that the cat was in there alone. The cat appeared to be working all by herself and that is a good turn of events because if her beloved cat was converted to help the American Horror doll then that would definitely be the worst. It could happen though, because it is close to Halloween and that’s what Halloween is about.

Her son is now standing in the doorway of her bedroom asking if everything is alright. Her son is holding his metal baseball bat that he sleeps with in his bed, because he is told to be the man of the house when dad isn’t there. She smiles at her brave, oh so brave son and she says “Yes, it was the cat.” The cat jumped up in her bed and is now purring loudly ready for a cuddle. She sees the relief settle over her son’s body and he drops his stance. He puts the bat in the corner of the bedroom.

“Are you good mom?” he asks.

“I’m good, sweetheart! You are such a strong man coming to check on your foolish mother. I really have let my imagination get the best of me tonight.” she chuckles. “Are you going to be able to get back to sleep?” she knows that her adrenaline is pumping.

“No! That was too much excitement.” he admits.

“It sure was. I’m so sorry I woke you.” she says. “Do you want to curl up and watch some tv in mom’s bed?”

He nods his head. “Nothing scary though.”

“Nothing scary I promise.” she pulls him in close. They find a fun kid’s movie…which was probably Anchorman because it was the middle of the night and there are no kid’s movies on at three in the morning. And she had to find something that wasn’t horribly inappropriate. So Anchorman! She is a good mother, don’t judge her. She just saved the world from that horrific possessed doll and this isn’t the first time. She is a heroine and she is highly unknown. So you’re welcome!!!!

That doll stayed in her closet until the mother heard that another little girl wanted one and those shits are expensive. The doll clearly wasn’t possessed and so she passed it on to another well deserving family. That little girl loved the doll very well and it was a happy ever after for everyone involved. Mostly because of this brave woman though, she is truly a hero and so E.M.F. should tell her great-nephew what an absolute brave family he was born into. I love you and him dearly! E.M.F. you are a heroine of your own right. I am proud of you! Give that boy a big smooch for me.

Moral of the story never let your imagination write your story if you are going to always die a painful death. Tell your imagination that you are going to save lives and fight demons and be the victor in your story. If your imagination doesn’t come on board take the  keyboard and delete, delete, delete until you have a story you can live with. I love you all!

Until next time 🙂

 

2 thoughts on “American Horror Doll

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