Dolls Are Not Cute

Do you ever wonder why some people are bothered to have a doll in their room? Dolls are just toys, it can’t move voluntarily on its own, it doesn’t have a life, yet why do we always have this urge to feel frightened as though we’re being watched?

When I was child, my mother got me a doll on my birthday. The doll was a girl, she was almost as the same height as me. She wore a cute one-piece dress and a gorgeous red long hair, tied with a blue ribbon on her back. Below her neatly curved bangs were big brown porcelain eyes and thick eyelashes. Her cheeks were really round and pinkish, which makes her even cuter.

She was remarkably cute for a doll, I thought, but there was one part of her that stands out from the rest.

“She has a nice smile don’t you think?”, Mom said. “Why don’t you take her out to play outside, what’s her name?”

“Lori. Her name is Lo-.”

Suddenly, I woke up, finding myself stuck on a loop of a neverending nightmare. My mind filled with moments from the past whom I thought were ones I cherished, but were ones I’d die to forget.

She was a curse, and my best friend.

I was really happy, and was even happier to know that she could talk.

“You’re cute.” I remembered the first words I spoke to her when I lifted her up and hugged her tightly. She would respond, “you’re cuter.”

And now, she’s there. Casually sitting in her favorite spot of the table, raising a cup with her right hand and holding the bottom with the left. As she took a sip, blood was drooping. Mom and dad were also there, but they were already empty. I cried, but tears never seem to fall.

I walked towards her, slowly as ever with my feet running shivers. I suddenly stopped at the middle as she stared at me, with an eye intent to play kill.

She smiled. It was never nice to begin with. As she held the cup down, I realized up to this point, what I was facing, and accepted whatever life had in store for me.

I smiled at her back. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I took a step forward, and it was then, light flashed at me. Strucked me with a sense that I’m gonna die in a second.

As I fell into the ground, I felt a pressure pressing against my chest. My visions were blurred for a moment, as soon as it reverted back I saw a figure non other than her.

For the last time, I took my final breath.

I could hear her whisper to me softly, “I am cuter than you now.” She giggles.

As my eyes starts to fade, the last thing I caught was a horrifying sight. She was covered in blood, holding a cup and a tainted knife. I realized, all this time.

It was me.

  • Bonnie Manz

    This story doesn’t make any sense. It’s all over the place. You should read this out loud to your self and then go from there.

  • Puddin Tane

    This story is sloppy. I wonder, is English your native tongue? It doesn’t seem as though it is. That can be the only explanation for the way this is written.

  • Kiyomi Tagle

    Pfft! are you secretely implying that you are cute😂?