Have you ever stared at something that you knew was evil? For me this was a doll. Yeah, an innocent looking doll. It belonged to my mom as a kid. She always refused to keep it in the house because it triggered something in me. Upon locking eyes with this collection of cotton and fabric, I felt something glaring back at me. It knew everything that I feared and continued to keep smiling back.
We initially rented a small country home that was trouble free but as soon as she moved it into the house with the rest of the furniture, I started bedwetting in the midst of night terrors. Mind you this was her childhood doll. She loved it dearly and could not understand why it was causing such an intense reaction from me which led to her giving it to my grandmother. It was left happily sitting in a rocking chair. Smiling. Black eyes with no end. Looking right back at you no matter where you stood. Staring into its eyes was hypnotic. A deep black completed with a simple smile and two triangles stitched into a blank canvas of face to form eyes. Two ponytails carefully braided with red yarn. It’s been almost ten years since my grandmother passed and this random doll who sat patiently in the same room and seat torments me. I was able to sleep in the house during visits, however I always had nightmares of the doll being there with me in my sleep. Never in a cruel way but rather just there. I never trusted it no matter how warm its glow might have felt.
My life was eventually filled with various fights between my mother and father to which I eventually saw my them both arrested first hand at different points. An uncontrollable anger was always hiding just under the table. Even though this, I made friends, and while I loved them, always felt a huge weight on my shoulders. The tension of a troubled household always stays with you. All it takes is a door slamming, a bang on the table, or basically anything reminding yourself of what you came from. The stress is always there no matter how many promises and moments of happiness you experience. After awhile you eventually stop risking attempts for the good moments. They were never coming for you anyways. You simply shut down. I had nothing left. I was alone and my parents did not care.
Even through all of this, I had managed to meet my perfect balance in this world during my high school years. She came from everything I did not and in the beginning truly loved me for who I was despite the walls I lived comfortably within. We had two children after we graduated and even though my salary was far below the amount required to raise a family, we lived happily and loved each other.
I had failed out of college due to me. I say me because I simply could not stand sitting in a classroom. It was a shallow experience. I sat in my psychology class hoping to learn about myself only to realize that they were only making broad generalizations. I had a family to feed and dropped out after a single semester. I could do more for them putting my head down and grinding away hours just as my father had done before me.