theinkwell fiction challenge | The Doll

in The Ink Well4 years ago

This is my entry for the inkwell fiction challenge- Week 2. Enjoy!

Window.jpg

The Doll

The door to Anna’s room opens with a creak and a soft silvery light streams in. She sees Emily’s silhouette in the doorway.

“Mommy...”

“What is it, baby?”

The little girl runs toward the bed, her feet tapping on the floor.

“I saw a ghost!” she announces as she throws her arms around Anna.

“A ghost?” Anna strokes her daughter’s hair and holds her tight.

“It was grandma,” says the little girl.

“Where did you see her?”

Emily points towards her room. “Outside my window. In the rain.”

“Did grandma say anything?”

“She told me she loved me and asked me if I loved her.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. I was scared.”

Anna kisses her daughter on the forehead then steps out of bed.

“Stay here,” she tells Emily. “I’ll be back soon.”

She makes her way across the hall and into her daughter’s room. There is a soft light falling through the window and throwing strange shadows on the floor. She sees a glowing figure standing outside in the falling rain.

With an open port, Anna establishes a neural link with the apparition. The signal is faint but stable.

“What are you doing here?” Anna asks the old woman.

“Anna, my darling,” says the ghost stretching out her arms. “It’s so good to see you. I was thinking about you and Emily…”

“You can’t be here. You’re scaring my daughter.”

“Oh Anna! I wouldn’t do such a thing. You can be so judgmental, criticizing others who mean you no harm. I told you that temper of yours would get you into trouble one day. Now look at how things have turned out for you. Your daughter doesn’t even have a father.”

Anna has learned to ignore these so-called ghosts, these obnoxious psychic apparitions that have tormented humanity ever since the day the rains came. The silver liquid that has flooded the world and turned every body of water into a reservoir of quicksilver. When they fall, the drops become a canvass for the holographic projections of the psyche. Harmless for the most part, yet troubling in their own right. And though she pays no mind to their incessant harassment, once in a while they do manage to get under her skin.

“Listen to me, you terrible creature. I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not in the mood to play your mind games. So, why don’t you go back wherever the hell you came from and shove it!?”

“Anna please!” the old lady pleads. “Don’t you remember how I held you in my arms when you were little? Soothed every fear. Healed every injury, even those inflicted by your father. Suffering in silence and-”

“Stop it! Stop it and go away!” She tries to sever the link but can’t. Some unseen force keeps it live.

Her mother’s voice echoes as if from a cognitive void. “Anna, you know how much I love you. Tell me, child, do you love me?”

Anna stands there looking at the falling rain. It shimmers and trickles down the window in rivulets. Streams of quicksilver flow down the street and into the gutter.

“Tell me, child. Do you love me?”

She looks up at the translucent specter. Her shoulders drop and she murmurs, “yes, mother. I love you.”

After the ghost fades away, Anna walks back to her room and slips under the covers. Alone in her bed, she grabs an old ragged doll and holds it close to her breast.

“Don’t be afraid, baby. You’re safe now, you’re safe here with me.”