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Writings

(Writing Collections) It couldn’t be alive

(Note that this is not my ordinary rant. It is an experimental writing I am doing. And the narrator is not Eva.)

Once again, I witnessed it with my own eyes. I was not on drugs, I didn’t intake any alcoholic drinks that moment. The smile was alive. The eyes were alive. I am not hallucinating. The doll was indeed smiling back to me. I took small steps to have a clearer view of it, and when I was close enough to reach my hands to touch her, she gave off a small, innocent laugh. I jerked my hands back, slapping my left hand across my cheek. It was impossible. The doll couldn’t be alive.

I tried to ignore it like I did the last time I saw it looking at me. But this time, I couldn’t. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, and it wouldn’t stop looking at me either. She let off another laugh, as I slowly stepped back, only to miss a step and landed down flat on my back. This time, I heard a small thud followed by a few footsteps. The laugh seemed to be drawing closer towards me. I sat up and was terrified by the sight I saw. The doll was running towards me and her hair was growing fast as she ran towards the distance between us. She parted her red lips and mouthed of something I couldn’t catch. What was it? I wondered. What was it that she had said to me?

The doll hopped onto me and face to face, I was with the doll I bought from the mysterious salesman. He said I will be happy with just by placing the doll in my house. And so I did. And this was not making me happy.

I could feel the hair of the doll slowly wrapping around my neck. I tried to pull it away from me, but the laughter of the doll was still ringing in my ears. I struggled hard. It was all hopeless. I closed my eyes and knew that it was time for me to descend up to meet the gods.

Once again, I witnessed it with my own eyes. I was not on drugs, I didn’t intake any alcoholic drinks that moment. The smile was alive. The eyes were alive. I am not hallucinating. The doll was indeed smiling back to me. I took small steps to have a clearer view of it, and when I was close enough to reach my hands to touch her, she gave off a small, innocent laugh. I jerked my hands back, slapping my left hand across my cheek. It was impossible. The doll couldn’t be alive.

Yes. It couldn’t have been alive.

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About angelofdevotion

Born in Thailand, raised in Singapore, came back to Thailand during my teens and lived there since. English is more of my native language, and I teach it for a living!

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