You're No Fun Anymore

We had gotten bad news last night, Grandmother passed away. The family was heartbroken, and I felt, awkward. She was my grandmother, so of course I did love her. She had many grandchildren though, so I never truly got to know her. So, yes, I was sad she was gone, but it wasn’t as heart-wrenching to me as it was for everyone else, and that made me feel guilty.

To try to make myself feel better about not being as much in mourning as everyone else, I offered to help pack up her things, after waiting a respectable amount of time of course! My aunts and mother were happy for the help. We didn’t start until a few days after the memorial service. The only unfortunate part of this was that, as we had to travel for the funeral, we ended up having to stay in her house while we packed it up.

I had forgotten about the collection of porcelain dolls my grandmother had. They were everywhere, and I really do mean it. They surrounded the television, they adorned every shelf that would have otherwise had an empty space, even working as book ends. There were more than one China cabinet with them on display as well. They were in every room. Some may think of this just as unfortunate, ugly, decoration. Heck, some may even love it. Me, though? I hated it.

Stepping in to her house on day one memories came flooding back to me about why I hadn’t spent much time with her at her own house. There wasn’t a single place to get away from the bastards, and I swear they were watching my every move. The first night it was nearly impossible to sleep. The guest bedroom they tried to set me up in had a bed, and a dresser in it. The dresser directly across from the foot of the bed, and completely covered in dolls, all looking right at me. After hours of tossing and turning in panic, I had barely managed to fall asleep. When I awoke five hours later, I would have sworn a few of the dolls were in different places.

We’d made some progress on the second day. Of my grandmother’s old 5 bedroom house, we got one of the bedrooms completely emptied out, and sorted between keep, trash and donate piles, and we got a nice dent in the living room. Before going to bed that night, as those dolls were making me extra creeped out now, I pulled out my phone and took a picture of their arraignment. I was unsure of how to feel going to bed that night, part silly but also very scared.

The next morning my first thought was those dolls. I immediately took a picture of them, and hurried out of the room. Once I felt in a safe distance from other people and all the dolls in the house, I looked at the pictures. To my horror they were not the same, not only were some in different places, but one was missing. My stomach began to turn and my heart began to race, what could I do? Hesitantly, I went to my mother.

“Hey Mom…” I said slowly, nervous about her reaction.

“What’s wrong sweetie?” She asked me with a concerned look on her face.

“Were you in the room I was sleeping in….while I was sleeping?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Do you know if Aunt Martha or Aunt Marie were?”

“I don’t think so. Now, what is this about?”

“Um.” I took a deep breath, my fear growing. “I have something to show you.”

“Okay.” She stood and walked up to me. I showed her the images on my phone.

“The first image I took before bed last night, the second I took this morning. Is someone messing with me?” I had a chill run down my spine just talking about it.

“Huh, that is weird. You know, go ask your aunts, I doubt it is anything to worry about though. It’s not like they can actually get up and walk away!” My mother laughed.

“Right.” I frowned. I found both of my aunts and neither of them would admit to having been in the room while I was sleeping.

Going to bed that night was even harder than the previous two nights. One of those dolls was still missing and I couldn’t stop wondering where it was. I knew the dolls still in the room had been moved around while I last slept and I couldn’t stop believing that they must have moved themselves. And there they all were, staring at me with their dead glass eyes and emotionless porcelain faces.

I pulled my blanket up over my head, curling into the fetal position like a child, and closed my eyes, willing myself to be anywhere else. I couldn’t even turn the light out that night, it was too much. I shook with fear as my pulse raced. Just when I thought I might have actually been tired enough to go to sleep, I felt movement on the bed. I froze. Something was touching my legs. Whatever it was, was also moving up the bed towards my face. I was too afraid to even cry. I couldn’t move or do anything. I just kept feeling more and more movement all around me. I was holding so still I had stopped breathing, without even realizing it. Just before passing out from the lack of oxygen someone pulled the blanket back from my face.

“There, there, Sweetie.” My grandmother’s ghostly face was looking down at my own. “They just want to play with you.”

The dolls were surrounding me on the bed, and moving. Their lips weren’t moving but I could hear their voices.

“You used to be fun.”

“Yeah, remember when she used to play with us?”

“We used to be her favorite.”

“I wish she hadn’t changed.”

“See dear, they have missed you so.” Grandma told me. This was when I noticed that I was suddenly tied up now. “Oh, don’t struggle Annie. It’ll pass before you know it.”

“Before I know what?” I asked her. I heard my voice, but I couldn’t feel my mouth move. My body felt weird, and Grandma was getting bigger and bigger before my eyes. I tried to scream and nothing happened. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I was more afraid than I ever had been in my life, and I couldn’t even close my eyes. I was getting cold, and all feeling was leaving my limbs. This was it, I knew it, I was dying. “Why Grandma, why?” I pleaded to ask. She must have heard me.

“They just need your friendship again lovely. That is all.” I felt my body lift and I was high off the floor. I no longer felt tied up, but I couldn’t move still. “There you are. Perfect.” Grandma smiled at me, her face huge.

As she walked away I looked at my surroundings. There was giant furniture everywhere…no, the furniture was normal, I was tiny! “My mother will notice.” I tried to shout.

“Oh no she won’t dear.” Grandma replied. “As far as she, and your aunts for that matter, are concerned, you never existed. Good night deary.”

She turned out the light. There I was left, in the dark, propped up on a bookshelf that was sitting atop a dresser, with a display of other porcelain dolls. There was even a convenient mirror on the wall across from us that I got to stare at myself in whenever the light came on. She was right, the women never noticed anything out of place about me, and never spoke of me missing as a person. Within days I was packed into a box with the other dolls on that set of shelves and we were donated to an antique shop. I now get to spend my days watching people enter the store, and seeing them get creeped out by me.