Lucy's DollA Story by Marlena Meg never did like China Dolls, now she had a reason.
“So, what are you getting Lucy for her birthday?” Meg shook her head, shoved a forkful of lo mein into her mouth and grabbed for her glass of soda.
“I already picked her up something,” she swallowed, put the glass to her lips and then pulled it away, “I’m not so sure I like it now, though.” She glanced up at her friend, Martha, and took a sip of her drink. “Why not?” Martha brushed her hair off her shoulders and put her hands on her chin, her food temporarily forgotten. Meg shrugged, grabbed a wonton, and ripped off the end of it, “It’s a little weird, I got it at this antique store a few days ago. It’s one of those china dolls, you know, glass skin and all that.” Martha shivered and went back to her food, popping a roll of sushi into her mouth, “Ugh, I hate those things. They’re so creepy, why’d you get one of those for her?” Meg smiled a little sheepishly, “Well, she said she wanted one a while ago, I just thought it’d be okay for her.” She sighed, ran a hand through her auburn colored hair and said, “I really am considering getting rid of it, I think it’s…I don’t know, made wrong or something.” Martha raised her eyebrows, “Made wrong? How do you make a doll wrong?” Meg shrugged again, “I mean, I don’t know, it’s eyes are black, it’s hair is black…The dress is white but I realized when I brought it home it has these little red stains all over it.” Martha laughed, “So it’s dirty, big deal. I mean, it sounds creepy enough but I doubt that someone was stupid enough to make a doll like that wrong. The nice ones can be pretty heavy on the wallet, no?” Meg smiled a little, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe it’s just been hiding out in my room too long.” She took another sip of her drink, glanced at the clock on the wall opposite her, “All right, I gotta go, can we get the check? I have to pick Lucy up from school in a half hour.” Martha nodded at her, swallowed some of her own drink and said, “Go, I’ll get the tab, you can by me lunch next time.” Meg smiled, “Thanks, Mar.” she grabbed her purse, fished out her keys and got up from the table as Marsha motioned for the waiter to bring the check. Meg stood up just as the waiter brought the check to the table, she snatched a fortune cookie off the tray and tore into it, cracking it open. She stared down at the fortune for a second, her eyes growing wide. Marsha was still fiddling around with hers, trying to open the plastic wrap it came in, “What’s it say?” Meg looked up as though shocked, “Here. I don’t want it.” She tossed it back on the table and turned on her heel, already out the door of the restaurant by the time Marsha reached across the table for it. She raised her eyebrows, unfolding the tiny slip of paper, for a moment, she would admit later, she felt her heart skip. ‘The doll.’ It was all the paper said. ----- “It’s just a fortune cookie; those things always say weird stuff on them.” Meg sighed, pinned the phone between her shoulder and ear and picked up a pink cotton shirt out of the clean laundry basket. “I know, I know.” She folded it, placed it on the table in a pile made specifically for her niece and then grabbed a pair of jeans. “I swear, once I got one that said ‘Don’t make faces at the moon.’ I mean, really, who comes up with them?” Meg grunted and Martha laughed, “All right, I’ll admit the circumstances are weird, but I really doubt you have anything to worry about.” Meg snorted, “Famous last words, thanks Martha, you probably just jinxed me.” “Relax, okay? You’re getting really uptight about this, you know.” Meg rolled her eyes, “Uh huh.” She jumped as the front door was slammed shut upstairs, she heard footsteps tromping through the kitchen and living room. “I gotta go, Lucy’s home.” “Okay, just promise you’ll forget about that stupid fortune cookie?” Meg sighed, “Fine, I have to make dinner. I’ll see you at the party.” “Okay…see ya.” ------ Two days later, the day of Lucy’s birthday party, Meg sat down for a moment on her bed, feeling the satin sheets beneath her. She bent over, reaching under the bed to grab the box the doll was in. She pulled it up onto her lap, pulling the lid off and staring down at the twelve inch figure in the box. Her lacy dress pressed and spotted here and there with tiny red marks, her glass skin too white and her round eyes too round, too perfect, too black. Her straight black hair fanned around her. Meg wondered what possessed her to buy that doll. Lucy was fifteen today, why not just get her a gift card somewhere? She took the doll out of its cardboard crib and held it in her arms for a moment, staring into those endless eyes with something close to remorse, and something far over the point of disgust. The doll. That was it. With that memory of the fortune two days ago, she was going to get rid of that God-awful disgrace of a doll. She was going to- The door opened with such force she shrieked and dropped the doll, jumping off the bed and landing on the hardwood floor. She moaned, rubbing her legs, and looked up at the door, which was just then ricocheting off the wall and closing in on itself again. It had opened so forcefully she would have thought someone kicked it open, but Lucy was out with Martha for the time being, getting supplies for the party. She stood up, anchoring herself against the bed for a moment as she steadied her shaken nerves, and headed for the door. “Hello?” Meg made her way to the door, looked up and down the hall and shook her head. “Whoever is there, I’ll call the cops right now unless you show yourself and get out…” her voice trailed off as she heard the click of the front door lock, the swoosh of inward air as the door was pushed open. “Aunt Meg?” Lucy asked, the rustle of plastic bags over lacing her voice. Meg sighed with relief, “Yeah, honey?” Lucy’s head came around the corner, “Everything okay?” Martha poked her head around the corner too and Meg smiled, “I’m fine, don’t worry.” She ran a hand through her hair, “One sec, all right?” Lucy nodded and disappeared with Martha into the kitchen, Meg turned back to her room. She was expecting the doll to be a shattered mess on the floor, having practically thrown it down when she screamed. She was thoroughly surprised when she went back to the side of her bed, finding the doll on its back, staring up at her, head resting against a pillow. Meg simply stared into its eyes, glazed over and fake, and knew deep down that it should be a mess on the floor, a pile of dust and shattered remnants, nothing more than that. Certainly, it shouldn’t be staring at her and… Her eyes roamed to its dress, which looked cleaner, brighter. The little red flecks were gone. Meg reached down and smoothed back its black hair, bit her lip and picked it up. She stuffed it in the cardboard box it came in and slammed the lid down on it. She needed to get the party decorations set up, and that was it. No thinking about that stupid, godforsaken doll. But, the entire two hours it took her to get everything set up with Martha and Lucy, all she could think of were those black endless eyes, that inkdark hair, and how pale its fake skin was. She wondered what those red flecks on its dress were, really, and thought it better if she just didn’t know. --- Lucy sat on the white wicker chair in her backyard, a cardboard box in her lap and her aunt Meg standing in front of her, a tinge of pink on her cheeks and a small, miniscule fear in her eyes, hidden deep behind false happiness. Lucy pulled the lid off the box, her eyes growing wide and excited. The doll lay there, simple, pretty and pale. Lucy grinned and picked it up out of the box carefully, one hand fitted under its head and the other on the back of its skirt, cradling it. She looked up with bright blue eyes at her aunt, “It’s perfect!” she jumped up, let the box fall to the floor, and hugged her aunt. Meg hugged her back, though she felt her skin crawl at the idea of that doll being so close to her, its head pressed to her tummy. She pulled away from Lucy, “I’m glad you like it, honey.” Lucy grinned, sat back down and settled the doll in the crook of her arm. The doll sat there with her as she opened the rest of her presents and Martha leaned over to Meg, putting a hand to the side of her mouth so Lucy wouldn’t hear, “You’re right, that thing is pretty shifty looking.” Meg rolled her eyes and handed Lucy her next gift. ------ A few hours later, after the party was over and everything was packed up and the backyard clean, Lucy sat at the kitchen table with the doll. Meg and Martha were leaning against the kitchen counter, each with a mug of tea in their hands. Lucy hadn’t put the doll down since she’d gotten it, and as happy as it made her, Meg wondered if giving Lucy that doll was really such a great idea. She felt selfish for thinking so, after all, Lucy was ecstatic and had shown the doll off to all her friends. It was just….the eyes on that doll, it followed her. It was unsettling, and she still couldn’t get the fortune cookie saying out of her head. What was it supposed to mean? Martha was right, as usual, that fortune cookies were random and really never made all that much sense. She herself had gotten so many bullshit fortunes that she almost wanted to know who came up with them. At the same time, she felt this one had to be real, but what good would two words do? ‘The doll’ wasn’t even much of a fortune, more like foreshadowing or even just something to spook her, creep her out a little. Lucy shrieked suddenly, jumping up with the doll in her arms. Meg and Martha nearly dropped their glasses and ran to her, Lucy looked up at them with upset eyes, “I got soda on her dress. Now it’s dirty.” Martha visibly relaxed and Meg smiled. She wasn’t by any means a housewife, but after playing soccer for three years in high school, she knew very well how to get a few stains out. She plucked the doll from Lucy’s grip without thinking and headed over to the kitchen sink. “Don’t worry, Lucy.” Martha sat Lucy back down, “Aunt Meg knows all about stains.” Meg smiled and grabbed a box of baking soda, a cloth, and got to work. A few minutes of gentle scrubbing and the stain was lifted, she turned back around and smiled. “There, better, see?” Lucy grinned; Meg started to walk towards the table where her niece and best friend waited. What happened next was much like Meg had been tripped; she felt something tug on her foot as she lifted it off the ground. She lost her balance and shrieked out of surprise rather than fear, clutching the doll to her chest. Later, when she thought back on it, it would feel a lot like she was wearing a dress too big for her and had gotten her foot snagged on the skirt. She slammed down on the floor, face first, and felt the doll crush beneath her. She heard Lucy gasp and footsteps skittering over the floor to her. Meg breathed deep and pushed herself up on shaking arms, “Oh…” she heard Lucy gasp, she looked down at the shattered remains of the doll, “I..I broke it…” her voice sounded far off and weak to her own ears, “I…” she breathed deep and it felt like the dust from the doll’s musty dress and powdered face was choking her. “I’m sorry, Lucy.” Lucy smiled a weak, wavering smile, “It..It’s okay.” Martha put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder, “Meg will get you another, right Meg?” Meg nodded, though Martha saw how her eyes seemed different. The normally bright, vibrant brown eyes of her friend seemed darker, deeper. Her skin seemed a little pale but that could be from her shock of the fall, Her soft pink lips were down in a sort of drawl, and she looked frail, weak. Martha put her hand on Meg’s shoulder, “You okay?” Meg looked to her like she’d never seen her before, Martha furrowed her brow, “Come on, I think maybe you need some rest. You did a lot today.” Meg nodded numbly and let Lucy and Martha help her up. As they teetered down the hall together, Martha said to Lucy, “I’ll clean it up; we’ll get you a new one tomorrow, okay?” Lucy nodded, sniffled, “Yeah, sure.” When they got to Meg’s room, Martha helped her over to the bed and said, “I’ll stay the night with you guys, you don’t look so good. Okay, Meg?” Meg nodded, shut her eyes and breathed deep. It was a ragged, rusty sort of sound, old. Martha bit her lip, ushered Lucy out of the room and shut the door. “Is Aunt Meg going to be all right?” Lucy looked up as Martha steered her back to the kitchen, “Yeah, she’ll be fine, Luce. Don’t worry about her.” That night, Martha cleaned up the house, made Lucy a little snack before sending her off to bed and settled herself down on the couch, pulling a blanket from the linen closet down the hall. She kept the TV on that night, because in the back of her head she heard that old, dusty noise Meg had made as she breathed in and she had to imagine it was a windy noise coming out. Rickety, like an old piece of machinery. Night came and went, Martha fell asleep watching old reruns of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. and Seinfeld. In the morning, she woke to Lucy screaming, at first thinking it was the TV but then realizing the TV hadn’t been that loud. ----- Lucy woke up the same way every morning, to her Aunt Meg shaking her very gently, sitting on the side of her bed. There would be sunlight streaming in through her window and maybe she could hear the TV in the background, maybe the radio. That morning, the morning after her party and after she had seen her Aunt to bed with that weird look in her eyes, she woke differently. Sometime in the night she had woken up to a strange creaking noise, but knowing Martha and Meg were in the house she ignored it and had fallen back to sleep. Now, she woke feeling that familiar weight on the side of her bed and she turned around, rolling over on her side and brushing hair from her eyes. She yawned, “Good morning, Aunt Meg.” She heard a wispy sort of noise and rubbed her eyes, blinking them into focus and yes, finding Aunt Meg there, but not how she remembered her. In the sunlight her skin looked bleached and white, her eyes round and endless and black. Her hair was pitch black, plastic and artificial looking. Her porcelain lips painted rose and parted over glass teeth. Her skin hung on her face, her mouth tugged down that same drawl. She reached forward, fingers thin and wrinkled, and she stroked Lucy’s cheek. Lucy screamed. ---- Martha kicked off the blankets and rolled off the couch, tripping over the rug in the living room as she veered around the couch and down the hall. She saw Meg’s door was open and she could see straight down the hall to Lucy’s room, where a girl Martha didn’t recognize was clawing at Lucy, grabbing at her long blond hair. Martha acted purely on instinct, grabbed the girl around her waist and hurled her off the bed. Meg hit the floor with a hollow thud, slid across the wood and raised her head, hair falling over her face. Her lips twisted back in a strange snarl and Martha gasped. Lucy jumped off the bed and streaked down the hall, and Martha braced herself as Meg pushed herself off the ground. She crawled on all fours at first, animalistic in a sense that her face was snarling and angry and her eyes were endless and deep and… -That f*****g doll.- Meg's nails dug into the carpet around Lucy's bed, squatting with her knees bent, her body arched forward and her hair falling over her face. She ran at Martha, nails scratching and scraping along the carpet, pulling out tufts of material. Martha wrestled with her, hands grabbing her friend’s shoulders as they threw each other about the room. Martha dug her fingers into the back of Meg's shoulders, screaming as she was slammed against the dresser, the wall. Picture frames fell and Lucy's useless little knickknacks hit the floor. Martha wondered, for a moment before being slammed back into the wall again, if Lucy had left her to fend for herself. In the kitchen, Lucy’s mind was racing but something told her what to do. It was like instinct, like a reflex. She didn’t know why, but she pulled the shattered doll’s remains-those thin wrinkled fingers touch her cheek- out of the waste basket, she got the cardboard box off the kitchen table, and she ran back to her room. Inside, Martha was pinned to the bed and Meg was planted on top of her, knees digging into Martha’s hips. Martha’s eyes were closed, Meg’s thin spider hands dug into her thick brown hair and pulled, she pressed her cool, smooth forehead to Martha’s and hissed with dusty breath, “Look at me, Martha.” Martha opened her eyes and Lucy shoved Meg, not hard enough to get her off but enough that Meg looked up, lips opening wide and ready to pounce. Lucy brought the shattered doll to Meg’s view and Meg screamed, jumping back and off the bed as if burned, arms crossed in front of her face, “NO!” Lucy shoved the doll forward again, nose scrunched up and lips turned down, “Let my Aunt go you b***h!” Meg fell back, her knees buckling and her arms falling down to her sides. Lucy held the doll steady and watched as her aunt screamed, mouth tearing open in a gaping hole, her eyes widening and skin shrinking and writhing grotesquely. Her hair moved as though alive, like snakes or worms in the mud, and a certain sort of light filled her eyes. Color returned to her skin as a soft, white breath came from her lips and restored the face of the doll to perfection, filling the cracks and crevices and remaking it completely to what it was before. It was like watching time turn back completely- tiny fragments of porcelain sealing themselves together, dull, scratched glass eyes becoming bright and polished. Meg sat back on Lucy’s bedroom rug, purple circles under her eyes, skin flushed and eyes clear. Her hair auburn, as it should be and her breathing gentle, deep. Lucy shoved the doll in the box, slapped the lid over it and threw it back down on the bed. There was silence. ------- An hour later, Meg, Lucy and Martha took the doll back to the antique store and politely asked for a refund. Meg took Lucy to the mall, brought her a new outfit, and finally got the doll out of her mind, because now she knew what that fortune had meant.
© 2009 MarlenaAuthor's Note
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Added on October 25, 2009Last Updated on October 26, 2009 Previous Versions Author
MarlenaNYAbout-What's there to know? It's obvious why I'm here, that's all you need to get it.- more..Writing
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