Jiki No Ningyō.

-.Hm. I found this story that I wrote a while ago. Please let me know what you think.^^.-

Once, there lived a woman, who had a great amount of affection of dolls. She had long, silky black hair, and deep brown eyes anyone could get lost in. As she walked down the street on her way to her job as a local Geisha okiya, she felt eyes following her every move. She turned around, and scanned the crowded street suspiciously. As she did, she noticed an older woman, just getting grey hair, selling porcelain dolls in a small stand. She walked to the stand, awed by the beauty of the fragile dolls. She smiled kindly as the woman greeted her. She observed the dolls, catching a glimpse of one with the same looks as hers, only more smooth, more fake. She gently picked it up, and observed its unnatural beauty. As she stared into the identical, yet different eyes, she was mesmerized as the woman tried to get her attention. She put the doll back, hesitating as she did.

"That doll is unique. Made by the best porcelain doll maker in Japan." She nodded mutely, and observed the doll still. As she stared, she asked, "How much for it?" And the old woman shook her head, and replied, "Take it for free. it needs a new home." The woman denied her request, but the old woman told her it would be fine. The woman nodded right away, and let the old woman wrap the doll up, putting it in a little sack to carry it. The woman smiled, bowing to her elder. The exchanged farewells, and went their separate ways.

The woman arrived, and did her job, walking home in the dark hours later. As she decided to cut through an ally, three men were standing there, leaning against the wall. She tried to walk past them, but the biggest one grabbed her hand, and pushed her against the wall. She gasped, screaming as if her life depended on it. She dropped the sack of the doll, and it rolled out the bag, unwrapped.

Ignoring the cat calls, and the whistles, she reached for the doll, only to be thrown against the ground. The doll turned towards the first man, and the man took one short glimpse at it, and blood came streaming from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, as he fell to the ground dead at the woman's now blood-soaked feet. The other two men froze in shock and beat the woman, thinking she was at fault for the horrible, agonizing death. The doll clicked against the wall, and the men turned to the doll, wondering what the sound was. A second later, they were both streaming blood from every hole in their skulls. The woman picked up the doll, stuffing it back in her pouch, and ran away, only her arms holding up her and her ruined kimono.

As she reached her house, she took time examining the doll, making sure no harm was done to it. Obsessively, she swiped the other dolls off a small table making them shatter against the wall. The air glimmered with the shattered porcelain, reflecting light. She set the doll up perfectly, fixing her small kimono, and her bun of midnight black hair. Soon, she passed out from both pain, and exhaustion, sleeping at the foot of the doll, in an almost submissive way.

In the morning, as soon as the ball of energy, known as Taiyō rose from the surrounding sea, the woman woke up, rubbing her eyes, wondering over what has happened. She checked the doll, making sure it was still in place, and intact. She got up, going outside to the well her and her neighbor shared. As she collected the water, she never noticed the identical brown eyes following her moves. As she came back inside to wash in peace, the doll was still where it was, looking like it has been there forever. Not minding the porcelain dust she stepped on, she went upstairs, cleaning her and her wounds.

She dressed in her yutaka, which matched the one on the doll, and fixed her hair in a bun, exactly like the doll's. As she changed, the eyes stared at her again, watching her every moves. But when she turned around, no one was there. She went downstairs, and checked the doll again. She slid it into her best festival pouch that carried her most expensive fan, and went out to celebrate the Sakura festival with her neighborhood. But right as she reached for the door, she collapsed in agony, holding her stomach. She screamed in agony as her insides felt like they were being torn apart. She backed away from the door, and a distorted child's voice rang in her mind, "Do Not Leave. This Is Your Home. Dont Leave Your Home. They'll Hurt You Like Before''

As the woman stood up shakily, she forgot the pouch with the doll inside the door, and ran into her room, slamming the sliding door shut. As she staggered to the corner of her room, she heard a click, and the voice rang once more, "Don't Leave." And it repeated, over and over again, soon drawing the woman to insanity, the picked up her vase of orchids, and threw it at the door, "Leave Me Alone!" She screamed. She faced the wall, holding herself close. Something rolled against her back, and she turned, only to scream out hysterically as the doll stood against her back, their identical brown eyes staring into each other.

She quickly picked up the doll, throwing it across the room.It hit the wall, but did not shatter as she expected. Instead, it seemed to slow down, so the wild throw seemed pitiful. The doll rolled back towards her, making her scream again, running out the room, down to her living room. As she made for the door, the pain returned full force, making her fall, her head colliding with the bamboo pole inside the door's interior. She heard the familiar click, and turned, the doll right in front of her face. The door instantly sealed shut, never to be opened. The distorted rang in her mind, quieter this time, and it asked her, "Why do you want to leave?" The woman froze in terror, wanting to be rid of this horrific, yet beautiful doll. Her obsession took over, and she marveled in the beauty of the doll.

The woman spent the rest of her living years, and the rest of eternity, even after the house was destroyed on that land, and a normal 21st century house stood in its place after many years have passed The doll was moved to a store, and the woman's spirit followed, following her beloved doll, and taking the best care of it, seeing as though it could last for eternity. But alas, once a boy, running, fell over, knocking over the table. The poor doll was destroyed, and the woman's spirit, not knowing, traveled the world for many years, looking for her precious doll, which is now in oblivion, and part of the soil of which her spirit treads. She tried many dolls, but none would speak to her, either because they were much different minded than her precious Jiki no ningyō, or they did not bother speaking with the distressed spirit. She tried every doll she saw, her spirit never finding her lovely doll, screaming in agony as she found another doll that was not her own. And she wandered the world, searching, screaming, and wreaking havoc on porcelain doll collectors, as they seemed to have happiness, while she couldn't have a simple porcelain doll to erase her eternal sorrow.