Red Blood (#writewithzo)

The possessed doll

When I came back to my senses, I only saw blackness. I couldn't feel anything; I couldn't move my arms nor my legs. I started to panic. My cry was stuck in my throat, and even though I desperately wanted to move, I was powerless and weak.

No, no! Stop invading my mind. Go away...

The doll was the soul of the house. It was a 19th century house and sheltered generations after generations. It was conveniently placed in a private part of the woods, with no nosy neighbours. The place was veiled in secrecy.

The doll was placed on the top most shelf of the living room, protected by a bell jar. Beautiful, delicate skin with no signs of scratches, wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes, the doll was the symbol of eternal beauty. It was the pride and joy of Cathy, the owner. 

One day while Cathy returned home from work, she stopped dead in her tracks. The doll was sitting on wooden chair, far away from its original location. The bell jar has been broken into pieces next to it. But the most creepy and unsettling of it all was that the blue eyes of the doll were absent and there was only a black void instead. 

A loud, piercing scream was heard that echoed throughout the darkness. Cathy's breath hitched, to the point where she was beginning to lose consciousness. Her treasure, her baby was broken. She screamed again and again, throwing stuff everywhere. She grabbed her hair, scratched her bare arms until skin and blood stuck underneath her nails. She was hysterical, she became mad.

But then, the screaming stopped. Cathy was eerily silent and still. Her eyes, once full of life and adoration for her prized possession, became blank. She located the biggest piece of glass that has been shattered and took it, staring at it as the conclusion dawned upon her. Slowly, she raised the piece of glass, the sharpest point directed to her, and with a force she didn't even know was capable, she thrust it into her heart. 

As blood was oozing out of her chest, she looked at the doll for the last time. Cathy fell on the floor, with the perfect smile of the doll taunting her forever.

As I became adjusted to the darkness, I become one with the doll. I saw what it saw. It was feeling suffocated in the bell jar. She yearned for her owner's touch, but because of her crazed idolization, she wouldn't allow herself to touch it, fearing to ruin her perfection. I felt its suffering within me. So she decided to break herself, hoping to break free of that prison. Since then, the doll was left on the wooden chair and the house has been abandoned for eternity...

It was then that I felt something rolling down my cheeks and I didn't need to see that it was tears, tainted red from blood.