Strange Yarns

The Doll and The Pig Nosed Girl

 Again that night, the doll thought that Emily's warm embrace would last forever. Unfortunately for everyone involved, it would only last a mere hour more.

 Emily's pig nose sucked in air. It made the sound of a broken auto until she awoke. Emily rubbed her eyes and whispered to her doll that she needed to go "wee." She got out of bed, slipped on her slippers, grabbed the doll and a lantern and made for downstairs. Emily opened the back door and tip-toed quietly to the outhouse. Emily grimaced as the smell enveloped her. She held her breath and shone the lamp in all the darkest corners looking for daddy longlegs and other creepy crawlers. As she was fumbling to get the lantern on its hook, she accidentally dropped the doll down the deep dark disgusting hole.

The doll fell down and down and further down still. Her button eyes looked up as her friend's fat face got smaller and smaller and the darkness around the hole got larger and larger. Finally, she landed on her back in a soft, semisolid pool. The doll began to sink into the sludgy waste, but stopped short when her face and the top of her hands were still exposed. She resembled someone sinking in quicksand holding out for some saving grace that would probably not come.

 Emily started crying and ran, forgetting the lantern. The glow from the lantern made the top of the hole glimmer like an orange harvest moon. She just had to wait patiently. Her friend would save her.

 Eventually, the door to the outhouse opened and Emily and Papa looked down. Papa rolled his eyes, and although they were far up, the doll heard Papa say, "...we'll get you another one come Monday."Emily nodded, a little tearful.

 Before the doll could contemplate the repercussions of her fall and the conversation above, Emily sat on the seat, her rear eclipsing the orange moon. She let it rain onto the dolls face. When the rains stopped Emily did not look back down. She took the lamp and left. The door creaked shut, thus signaling the end of the rescue mission. Lillian was left in abysmal darkness.

The doll's cloth skin absorbed all the rank fluids. Her white cotton skin turned blotchy and brown and saggy. In the complete darkness the doll wondered if she would ever return to that warm embrace.

 The doll could tell it was morning. She could see the faint glow of light breaking through the wood panels. Now only her button eyes were above the filth. By the time breakfast completed it's digestion she was completely submerged.

 It could have been days or months, the doll could not tell, she was a prisoner, suspended in a cold, vile, gelatinous cell. She remembered what Papa had said to Emily. "Even if we did fish your doll out, we couldn't bring her into the house, not now." The doll would have stayed there until she dissolved and became part of the slime, but Lillian knew she was special, she knew she deserved that warm embrace, and if Papa wouldn't let her back to Emily's warm embrace then maybe she could bring Emily to her.

 Feelings of betrayal turned to hope and it was hope, perhaps the most magical thing that exists, that let the doll move on her own accord. The doll pushed her down, using her arms for the first time to propel to the surface. This was no easy feat. She was not designed for locomotion and she was heavier than normal, waterlogged from absorbing too much excrement and urine. But again, the magic of hope and love makes the impossible possible.

 Emily snored. As she inhaled deeply, she was awoken by the most hideously pungent smell that had ever wafted into her snout. She opened her eyes and saw Lillian staring at her, sitting in a brown wet spot on her bed. The doll was no longer that cute, little, brown stringy-haired present from Papa. Now her cotton skin drooped and dripped and melted off; distorted and demented. Before Emily could scream she shoved herself away in a knee-jerk reaction, falling off the bed onto her head. She was out.

 The doll conjured magnificent strength and grabbed Emily's curly twisters and began to drag her down the great stairwell, hitting Emily's head on every step. The doll was so proud and full of dreams of warmth and love. The doll dragged Emily into the outhouse and hoisted her head first down the hole. The doll fell first, hanging by the hair of her upside down friend. Before they hit the bottom they stopped abruptly. Fat little Emily's girth had clogged the drain. Lillian was stuck swinging from the blimp above her like a hot air balloon stuck in a train tunnel. The doll began to yank and yank, until she yanked too hard and one of Emily's locks gave way, taking a bit of scalp with her.

 Emily awoke screaming. She found herself stuck upside-down facing a cesspool of shit. She screamed and screamed and screamed some more. And as she screamed the viscous smell danced up her nose and onto her tongue. She watched the grotesque little doll climb up the muddy sides. Finally the doll shoved her hands between Emily's lips, gripping the roof of her mouth and began to yank her down by her teeth.

 The taste on Emily's tongue caused her to vomit, gurgling her cries and wails. The bile, blocked at the mouth spilled out of her nose and showered Lillian. Finally, with enough energy and courage from the little doll, Emily gave way and fell face first into the sludge. She frantically flailed and jerked as she tried to get right side up, but the hole was too thin. She let out one more scream, allowing the putrescent liquid to rocket up into her lungs and stomach. Her flailing stopped and her arms fell around the doll in a loving embrace. And there, the doll and Emily stayed, in that loving embrace, until they both dissolved into their murky resting place.