The Fears Within

Delicately Carved

Pediophobia - Fear of dolls

Much like any other fear, it wasn’t like Lacey asked to be afraid of dolls, she just was.

And much like with any other fear, she wasn’t just afraid of them. Oh no. She was terrified.

The mere sight of a doll sent her reeling in panic.

Her parents didn’t have any idea of what to do with her. When she was four years old she was sent to a foster home. Ever since then she had kept her fear to herself. She didn’t want anyone thinking she was odd for being deathly afraid of something as simple as dolls.

However, it’s never a good idea to keep something as big as a fear to yourself. Drawing yourself taut like a rubber band. Stretching and stretching until there’s no more room to move. Then you’re stuck.

And you never know when you’re going to snap.

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“Lacey,” Her foster sister, Morgan drew out her name in a whine, “Hurry up. You’re going to make us late.”

“It’s my birthday. I have the right to take as long as I want,” Lacey shot back with a smile.

Morgan snorted and pretended to look angry, emphasizing her curvy figure as she cocked her hip and placed a dainty hand on it, “Well, princess, the reservation isn’t going to wait for us.”

Lacey laughed, “Fine, fine, give me a second. Tell mom and dad I’ll meet you in the car.”

“All right, just don’t take forever,” Morgan complied, turning and shutting Lacey’s bedroom door behind her as her wavy, raven-colored hair swung out of sight.

Lacey turned towards her mirror and smoothed her dress down. Her foster mother had presented it to her this morning with a twinkle in her eye. The dark blue material that almost matched her eyes cinched around Lacey’s thin waist and then flared out to her knees so that the skirt swung as she walked. Her auburn ringlets bounced against her bare shoulders as she moved towards her bed, picking up her purse and then sliding into her silver flats before running downstairs and piling into her family’s car.

Morgan smiled at her and played with the dark green material of her own dress. Her hair brushed against Lacey’s arm in the small backseat of the car as they started the drive to the restaurant.

As they arrived, Morgan jumped out and hooked her arm through Lacey’s, dragging her sister to the doors. Her parents followed, laughing at the girls, and approached the reception table. The waiter led them to a dark corner in the back of the room where they sat down.

The dinner was excellent, and after an off-key singing of ‘Happy Birthday’ the family drove downtown for a night of shopping.

Lacey’s father stuck close to her mother as they walked, looking apprehensively at the numerous stores. Her mother laughed at him and then turned to the girls.

“You can ditch us if you want. I think your father might be kind of a stick in the mud tonight,” She said with a wink.

“Are you sure? I don’t know if I want the girls walking around down here by themselves,” He father said in concern.

“They’re both seventeen now, Jim, I think they’ll be fine.”

The girls thanked the two of them and hurried along the sidewalk. Morgan chattered aimlessly as they window-shopped. Lacey listened to the soothing sound of her sister’s voice as she walked. Soon, though, Morgan stopped with an excited squeal.