My sister has always played with dolls. For an 8 year old, I never found it weird or strange. Chrissy, my sister, is one of those kids who will join dance, or shop at Claire’s whenever she goes to the mall. She’s just a happy kid.
My sister and I were never close. Maybe because I’m seven years older than her. Maybe it’s because she was more bright and outgoing, while I prefer to keep to myself.
For the most part, Chrissy and I could easily co-exist without issue. I mean, it wasn’t hard. Our mom had always been away on conference meetings and work trips, so there was nobody to make us talk to each other.
I guess the whole thing started when mom came back from one of her meetings. Usually, mom brings us presents to make up for her being gone for so long. For me, a European brand of shoes, and for Chrissy, 5 dolls.
The dolls looked like regular dolls. The classic Barbie doll figure and the painted one smile. Some of them had dark brown hair, some of them were blondes, and one was ginger. Some had braids, another had a bun, and the rest had their hair down.
They were pretty to say the least. Like plastic models. And of course, Chrissy loved them. I remember she immediately ran to put them in her doll house where all of her Barbie’s lived.
Mom didn’t stay long. She had another flight to catch. She was gone before dinner time. I made both me and Chrissy dinner, and we went to sleep. Or tried to, because I was woken up by Chrissy’s screams.
Being the over protective sibling I am, I sprinted down the hallway and burst into her room, only to see her crying on her bed.
“Chrissy, what happened? Why did you scream?”
My little sister tried to speak in between sobs. “Th- the dolls. They want t-to take me away.”
I found this very disturbing, but it was late and I was tired. So I put the dolls in a wooden chest and locked it. I gave Chrissy the key so she might feel safe. And then I went back to sleep.
I woke up. This time, it was morning. But something was off. My head felt lighter than usual. That’s when I realized a large chunk of my hair was missing. I screamed, jumped out of bed, and went to find Chrissy.
“Chrissy!” I yelled, furious at the 8 year old. I marched to her door and swung it open. “Chrissy, what did you do to my hair?” She looked up at me innocently. She was holding two of the dolls that she had been so afraid of the previous night. Of course she was.
“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything.” See turned back to her dolls, whispering something I couldn’t hear. I rolled my eyes at her.
“Sure Chrissy. When…” I stopped to look at one of the dolls she was grasping. “…Sally here finds that her hair is gone, don’t blame me.” And with that I walked out, slamming the door behind me.
The day was uneventful, other than me getting a haircut. I ordered pizza for Chrissy and I. But when I called her down to eat, I got no response.
“Chrissy! Get down here!” Still, nothing. I climbed the stairs and into the hallway making my way to my sister’s room. The door was slightly open. I was about to open it more when I heard Chrissy speak.
“Is it finished? The doll?” Chrissy’s voice sounded different.
“Yes. I propose we should take them tonight.” One of Chrissy’s dolls spoke. A third one chimed in.
“Let me see it!” Her voice was scratchy and broken.
The first doll then walked towards the wooden box I had locked them in earlier and pulled out another doll. This one was lifeless. And also looked exactly like me.
If I hadn’t made enough mistakes already, my stupid self decided to make the biggest one. I audibly gasped. All the dolls heads abruptly turned to see me peeking through the crack. The dolls then fell down as if they were never standing. Chrissy too looked at me before getting up, and closing the door.
I am now in my room writing this so that maybe someone else can learn and benefit from my story. Maybe someone can contact my mother to tell her what has happened. I can hear the plastic from the dolls body hitting my door, and trying to undo the lock.