When I was about 12-13 my sister told me a story. She said that when I was 5 years old I came into her room in the middle of the night and quietly asked, where is she? Confused she asked back, who is she? With a complete straight face with my teddy bear on the ground while I was holding its hand I asked again, where is she? This time in a more aggressive tone. She calmly asked me to go to sleep. I said, ok, and walked away while my teddy slided across the floor as I stumbled back into my room.
We laugh about it of course it was just a thing I did when I was 5 but now I’m not so sure anymore. She left for Oregon 2 year ago and I went to see her for my birthday the following year. We had a full sibling day together and it was the best time of my life it seemed. We went to an antique store just to see what was inside. We walked in and saw books, pictures, shirts and worst of all, dolls. Raggedy Anne dolls, Russian nesting dolls you know, the standard for a creepy old store. We were really careful not to go to the dolls but one section intrigued us. It was passed the dolls so we had to walk through them to get to that section. We looked at the blank faces and were just horrified. But one caught my eye. A small porcelain doll with speckle freckles, a black wide bribed hat, a black dress with with as a pattern, platform shoes, and a bow across the waist. This doll looked more alive then the others. More expressive.
My sister shook my shoulder and asked if I was alright and that I muttered something. Something like “I found you.” I don’t remeber this I was just looking at the doll when I noticed the doll was holding a sign. All it had was a number. 13. I was confused when I remebered that night clearly. I saw a doll in my dreams with the same clothes but a different face. It was a face of excitement this face was one of disappointment. It was like it was disappointed that is was found. 13 years ago I saw a doll in my dreams and I’m holding it. I left the shop without looking at anyone or my sister. My sister ran after me worried about what happened. All I could say was, I found her. I continued waking to a park when suddenly I fell to my knees and curled up in a ball. I was free. Free of her. For 13 years I would have nightmare after nightmare about this fucking doll and I found her. My face turned from straight to a crooked smile and I laughed. My hands begun to crack like a pot throw to the floor as I stood up. I looked at my sister who was terrified and told her that I was free. Thank you for bringing me here. I found her. She asked the same question 13 years ago. Who is she? I didn’t notice I had her in my hands. The doll was in my hands. The sign changed it read, you’re free. My sister looked at the doll and screamed. The doll wasn’t just any doll. It was her, it was the same outfit that she was wearing. I screamed aswell.
That was where I woke up in a hospital bed. My family all around me. I didn’t see my sister. I asked, where is she? And my parents looked at me and asked who is she? I then saw my niece with the doll. It looked like her. I pointed at the doll and my parents confusingly looked at the doll. It had that damned sign. I guess I’m the only one who can read it becuase they were met with confusion, I was met with horror. It read, help me.