Porcelain Doll

Basement

I think I've always liked porcelain dolls, well kind of, if I'm honest they would semi freak me out as a kid. A glass doll, with realistic eyes, that could for one... dress better than me. My mom had this one porcelain doll when I was a kid, she had tight blonde curls, pink, rosy cheeks, two empty symmetrical emerald eyes and wore a fluffy yet elegant brown dress, a white collar complementing her outfit. I still recognize her name, I remember because I had pleaded with my mother to give me a baby sister, and that she should name her the same as the porcelain doll, Mara.

My mother didn't birth any kids after me, I was raised as a single child my whole life. Although my mother did try for more kids, trying to fulfill my wishes to be an older sister, she gave up after 5 unfortunate miscarriages, she had finally given in to the realization that she was only to be the mother of one kid. As I got older, I never blamed her for not giving me that sister that I had asked her for, well perhaps I had complained every now and then, but a child cannot comprehend the meaning of miscarriages.

                   "Rue, will you help me move these boxes inside the moving truck?" I heard my mother shout from the first floor.

"Yeah, don't worry, I'm coming" I dragged out as I taped a box filled with old picture books from my childhood.

 I had been in the basement picking and choosing where to stay and what was going to be donated, I got ready to leave the basement as I labeled the box in front of me "Donate". I picked up the box and walked over to the stairs leading upstairs, as I reached the last step I felt as if a small hand had grabbed my ankle. In an instant I tumbled down the stairs. It must have been one hell of a fall considering how fast my mom ran to the basement to see what all that commotion was about.

"Oh my god Rue, what happened??" I heard my mother shout, her voice with concern as well as confusion.

 I held my head, my world spinning. I felt a sharp pain on my whole body, specifically the pounding in my head as well as the sharp pain coming from my ankle. I opened my eyes slightly, still holding my head. I could have sworn I saw a blurry figure of a small child running into the shadows, I forgot about it quickly before shutting my eyes again in pain.

I slowly stood up after a while and looked up at my mom, who was standing at the top of the stairs with a worried look on her face. "I'm... alright mom" I hesitated to say, the truth was I wasn't actually sure if I was alright, but either way I assured her I was, to not put more stress on her anyway. She walked down the stairs and started picking up the stuff that had scattered from the box when I fell, I slowly got up and brushed myself off.

"I'm not actually sure what happened, I was just walking up the stairs and I felt as if something had...I don't know... Grabbed me?" I said, unsure if I was making sense. The look on my mother's face reassured me that I was definitely sounding a little crazy or even paranoid.

"I told you not to say that type of stuff Rue, the paranormal anomalies are always hearing us. You have to be careful with assumptions, are you sure that you didn't just slip or something?" My mother had asked me, her eyes anxiously avoiding mine.

My mother had always believed in paranormal entities, unexplainable anomalies, demons, ghosts, Cthulhu, baba yaga, la Llorona and all that kind of stuff. Our house was basically covered in catholic art and Christian crosses all over the place, from as far as I can remember she would always have me pray every night before bed. It's not that I didn't necessarily believe in that kind of stuff, I just didn't take it as seriously as her, I would try to make logical solutions first before assuming it was some bad juju or something.

I cleaned myself up and my mother helped me with the rest of the boxes, soon enough the basement was wiped clean. Well of actual furniture and stuff we probably don't need, it was still very dusty and covered in webs. I had forgotten to mention to my mother about the child-like figure I had seen after I fell. I decided that it was probably a side effect of the concussion, probably a hallucination of some sort.

As we packed everything from the basement and started taking some stuff upstairs, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was being watched at first, I assumed it was my mother making sure I was doing my job correctly but even when she wasn't in the room, I could still feel some sort of eyes on me, watching my every move. Before I left the basement I decided to look around, to see if I had missed anything. Upon inspection I saw a tiny door, kind of like a small little compartment where you would usually hide money or weapons for protection, I tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. It felt as if it was glued shut or even being held closed from the other side, I thought it was weird but paid no mind to it, after all I was still pretty busy.

I heard my mother shout from upstairs, asking me if there was anything else downstairs, I shouted back that we had taken everything and made my way upstairs. When I got to the last step, I kind of hesitated then decided I was being paranoid. I got to the door frame and closed the basement door behind me.