Viscera and Other Tales

Gracie

I have always been a depressed person.

Even from early childhood I have struggled with an almost insurmountable sadness that has plagued every corner of my life.

Therapy, pills, love. Nothing seemed to snap me out of my never ending funk.

Once I turned 18, I was out of the house, on my own. My parent's begged me to stay, worried for my mental health.

I promised them that me leaving would be a good thing, that I would be better on my own.

What a crock of shit that turned out to be.

If anything I just grew more isolated. Loneliness that had always been with me expanded. Now I felt truly alone.

The isolation of being stuck with my own thoughts, my only escape being a dead end job, it just made everything worse.

When my parents would call, I'd lie and say everything was fine. That there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

And there wasn't, really.

Yeah I was a miserable, depressed man. Lonely as they come.

But this was normal for me. This had always been my life. Things were worse, but not too different.

I was a frog in boiling water, it had gotten hotter but it was gradual enough that it just felt like the same old depression.

Nothing new.

Except for Gracie.

Gracie was a tattered cloth doll with dark brown yarn hair, black button eyes, and a deep frown. She wore a knitted maroon dress and little buckle shoes.

When I was first scoping out apartments, the prospective landlord pointed her out.

"And that..." he said, pausing for dramatic effect. "Is why rent is so cheap here."

He pointed over to Gracie who sat in a small rocking chair in the corner of the room.

I remember laughing, thinking it was a sort of weird joke. My eyes met with his and I could tell he was serious.

"That's Gracie. She doesn't leave here."

I felt a wave of confusion as I looked over to the old doll.

"It comes with the place?" I asked, unsure of what to say.

He nodded. "You live here, you're free to get rid of her. If you really want to. I wouldn't though."

I didn't like the sound of that.

But, alas, rent was cheap and I was desperate for a change of scenery. My parent's worry had recently grown more suffocating.

"It's a pretty doll." I said. "At least she isn't porcelain. That'd be really scary."

I chuckled to break the tension, the landlord remained stone faced.

So, despite an odd start, I moved in. I've never been particularly superstitious but I'm also not one to seek out the paranormal.

As long as Gracie kept to herself I decided to let her stay in her little corner.

The first 3 months were relatively event free.

Every once in a while I'd hear a bump in the night but other than that, things were chill.

It didn't start ramping up until the dreams began.

In them, I was always in bed, crying. I'd sob and sob until I'd hear the door open behind me. A shadow, with long, clawed, fingers would slink in. It'd envelop me, it's overwhelming darkness squeezing the life from me.

I'd scream once and it grew angrier. I'd scream again and the fear would intensify. But on the third scream, always the third, I'd wake up.

I'd sit up in bed, soaked in sweat.

In the corner, even in the dark, I could feel Gracie's eyes on me.

When I'd flick on the lamp beside me, I'd see her like she was waiting for me to awaken.

Those dreams seemed to happen every other night, eventually they were a nightly occurrence.

I began to dread coming home from work, having to force myself to sleep.

My depression was soon replaced by fear.

Sure I was still miserable, but now I was miserable and scared.

I decided to be proactive and try to take control of the horror.

One day, I picked up Gracie and walked her outside, to the trash can.

"Sorry, Gracie." I said. "I can't keep doing this."

I put her in and closed the lid. I wasn't completely sure she was the cause of everything, but if it's not her then what?

I was desperate to fix my problem.

That night, I lay in bed, less frightened than before.

It was time to test my idea.

I could feel myself drifting away to sleep, when I heard a loud crash outside my room.

I sat up, gripping my blanket tightly.

Reaching over to flick on my lamp, I was startled to find that it wasn't working. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

I had never felt so alone.

I considered my options. Bolting for the door, out the window, calling 911.

Then my door slowly began to creak open.

It slowly slid wider until it burst completely open, slamming against the wall behind it.

I screamed as a tall, dark figure stood in the doorway.

The figure from my dreams.

It shambled forward, thrusting itself into the room.

It fell to the floor and began to roll towards me. My eyes couldn't believe what I was seeing.

It moved like a rolled up carpet until it leapt onto the bed.

My scream was cut short and it raised a big clawed hand into the air. It laid it onto my face, covering my mouth.

I began to toss and struggle against the entity, it uncovered my eyes.

Mouth still covered, I looked at it and met it's gaze.

It had big yellow eyes that burrowed deep into me.

I heard a noise rumbling from it, despite the fact that it had no mouth.

"Where- Gr- Guh- Gracie!?" It said.

With a free shaky hand, I pointed outside, towards the window.

"Get Gr-Gracie." It said, finally uncovering my mouth.

It slinked off my bed and crawled out of my bedroom and into the darkness.

I got up and ran to the front door, straight to the trash can outside. I uncovered it and, sitting atop all the trash, was Gracie.

I picked her up and ran back upstairs, setting her down in her little rocking chair.

I stayed up all night, but the entity never returned.

As the days went on, the dreams grew more and more sporadic, until they stopped completely.

It's been a year since I last had one, but I've still kept Gracie in the corner of the room.

I've been looking for new places to move to, honestly I might just go back with my parents.

They care about me, they're worried for me. I thought being on my own was better, now I'm not so sure.

All I know is that I'm still miserable, but things could be worse.

Who knew a doll and it's shadowy owner would be the key to appreciating life.