It was about two years ago when I found it buried within the walls of the attic as if it had been left behind by mistake. Looking back now, it had to be on purpose. Someone a lifetime ago wanted the doll gone and I let it out with one swing of a sledgehammer.
Don't get me wrong. The doll wasn't Chucky. At least that red headed little bastard had a sense of humor. Mine was just creepy. Odd things had a way of happening around the doll. Like the time the bookcase nearly crushed the puppy. Or when the fishbowl spilled near the outlet.
Or my heart attack.
I felt it's presence almost from the moment I would walk into the house. And call me crazy, but a few times I would swear that it changed outfits overnight. One afternoon about a year ago, I decided to toss it into a drum and burn it along with the autumn leaves. A cat howled in the distance. It was that little baby kind of howl that makes your skin itch with fear. But the doll was gone.
My friends all said I was nuts. Afraid of a little doll. If I had a family, I'm sure they'd say the same thing. But in my defense, the sun started shining again. My house felt nimble after a long dry spell. Eventually, I even finished the attic.
The first mistake I made was not going to Ikea or some big box furniture outlet. I decided that antiques would finish the room better than that Swedish bullcrap wood. When I first saw the doll in the vintage shop, I went numb. Was this really happening and was I actually buying it? It was all kind of hazy after that.
I remember throwing it onto the front seat and fastening its seat belt as if she were alive. After that, I blasted my radio. The one thing I can recall was the smell of chicken from the Cluck-Amuck Chicken stand. I remember wanting some but the doll told me no. Maybe she was Chucky after all.
At least, that's the last thought I had before I hit that telephone pole.
Music: 'A Taunting Voice' by DÃ¸d Beverte. It can be downloaded HERE