The next morning I woke up and could hear Ava downstairs talking to herself. It was rare for her not to wake me up for a hug, or breakfast, or to ask a really important question. I was intrigued as to how she was keeping herself entertained. As I sneaked downstairs and peaked in through the living room door I could see Ava sitting on the floor with her plastic kitchen set out. Next to her was the skeleton doll; she was feeding her a piece of plastic cake.
“Ava! What are you doing?” I couldn’t help but sound surprised that Ava was playing with the horrible toy.
“Playing with my dolly,” Ava said in a matter-of-fact way.
Over the next few days Ava and the doll became inseparable. Insisting on taking it to play school with her I felt embarrassed as to what the other parents would say. Being scary enough to give Freddy Krueger nightmares, I drew the line at her sleeping with it.
A few days later I had had enough of her carrying the doll everywhere. Much to Ava’s disgust, I pried the doll from her and put Ava in her playpen in the garden to get some fresh air. I gave her a selection of other toys, along with Pebbles, and stood in the kitchen, watching her play as I half-washed the dishes.
After a while I went outside to check on her. She was sitting on the ground, holding something tight in her hand.
“Why are you so quiet, Ava?” I asked, taking her little closed fist and kissing it. She opened her hand and passed me something small and soft.
“What have you got?” I looked down. In my hand was a tiny dead bird. It was so pale it was almost translucent, with pearl-like eyes. I screamed and dropped it on the ground.
“Why did you pick up a dead bird?” I shouted.
“It was Dolly, she did it.” Ava pointed her hand towards the house. Through the patio glass I could see the doll lying on its side on the kitchen table, it’s black eyes looking straight at us.
That night I called up Sarah to find out more about where she got the doll.
“We bought it from a woman in Mexico who makes them for orphaned children to be their guardians. She wasn’t going to sell one to us at first, but I got managed to get one. The lady said that the dolls have the power to protect their owners.
I got off the phone scared witless. Who on earth would buy one of those dolls, let alone think it was a suitable present for a three-year-old? I went upstairs to Ava’s room, where the skeleton doll was sitting on the bedside table. I picked it up and took it downstairs, where I threw it in the kitchen bin.
That night I slept well—the relief at getting rid of the skeleton doll had taken a weight off my mind. That was until I was woken by the sound of crying. I immediately went into Ava’s room to find her fast asleep, but I could still hear crying. My stomach turned. Surely it couldn’t be the doll? I crept downstairs and opened the bin. The doll was still there, and appeared to be quiet.
I then had a scary thought and ran into the living room and looked in Pebbles’ basket. She was gone.
“Pebbles?” I called out. It wasn’t like her not to be in her basket. I could still hear crying. I looked in the kitchen. Pebbles wasn’t there. I ran upstairs and looked in the bathroom. Nothing. I went into Ava’s room and switched the light on.
“What is it, Mummy?” Ava said.
“Nothing, Ava; go back to sleep.” I turned off her light and shut the door. I went into my bedroom and looked under the bed. When I went back into the hallway I could hear talking coming from the kitchen. Ava’s door was wide open. I ran downstairs and looked in. Ava was sitting on the floor surrounded by rubbish. The bin was lying on its side. Ava was cradling the doll as if it were a baby and talking to her. The crying had stopped.
“Why was dolly in the bin, Mummy?” Ava said. I ignored her question.
“Have you seen Pebbles, Ava?” I asked. Ava didn’t look up, she just pointed outside. It was too dark and windy outside to see anything. I turned on the patio light. Pebbles was lying lifeless on the ground. I collapsed to the floor.
“What’s wrong, Mummy?” Ava said.
“How did you know Pebbles was outside?” I asked Ava between sobs.
“Dolly says she was angry because you tried to take her from me.” Ava said in a matter-of-fact way. She started singing a lullaby to her doll as she smiled and stroked her head.
When I was younger, I hoped that my parents would go somewhere—to a lake house on weekends, to our cousins’ for a couple of days, anywhere—without me. I hoped that I would have the entire house just for myself, and for the friends who would come over to visit. I was never interested in throwing parties, knowing that something like that would always leave a mess, but I wanted to have complete privacy, not caring if we use some “bad” words, or drink alcohol, or listen to loud music…
And so, my wish turned into reality. Mom and Dad told me that they were going to visit my aunt and that they would like me to join them. I managed to avoid the journey by telling them about the article I needed to complete for the school newspaper. There was no such article, but they couldn’t check it, so my lie was perfect enough. As my parents left the house, I picked up the phone and called three of my best friends, telling them to grab their pajamas and bring something to drink. My refrigerator was overflowing with food, so I was focused on
