Ragdoll

Death is a scary thing to experience. You never know if there’s an afterlife or if there’s just nothing. I was just thirteen when I died. I got leukemia and was stuck in the hospital for weeks at the end of it all. My grandmother knitted me a doll. A rag doll. It was my favorite doll in the world. I named it Celeste and told my family that I’ll try my hardest to get better. My mother made a badge with the name Celeste on it, and my grandmother sewed it onto my rag doll. I was so grateful. I promised I’ll never lose this doll ever.

As it was, though. I didn’t make it. I died. The cancer won and darkness consumed me. I was hoping there was an afterlife that I would get to go. But there was only darkness. It’s strange though. I’m dead, but it seems like I still have my conscience and memories. I would have thought if there’s no afterlife then I wouldn’t even exist anymore, but then why does it seem like I am still here? It’s strange, and it’s scary. I don’t want to be here. I can’t even move or see anything but darkness. I’m afraid.

I feel like I’m in hell or something. It’s just an endless darkness, deafness, and I can’t hear anything or move. It’s like I’m there, but I’m not all there. If that makes any sense at all. It’s like anyone’s nightmare and I honestly don’t like it. My life was mostly suffering and stuck being in hospitals. It’s not fair that my death is being tortured like this as well. I just want my mommy and daddy. I want my grandmother. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be alone.

“-here! In here!”

Wait? I can hear someone now. Who is that? I don’t recognize their voice. It almost sounds like a young girl, and it sounded like they ran into a room. Am I in some type of room? Where am I exactly? What even happened to me? I just remember my cancer winning and I died from it, and then the next thing I knew I’m here.

“Wait up Maddy!”

That voice sounded like a young boy. What is going on? I still can’t move or see, and all of this is freaking me out. I shouldn’t be here. I should be in heaven or whatever the dead go. I just don’t want to be here. I feel like I’m ease dropping on these two kids, and that’s not fair to them, considering they don’t know I’m doing it.

“Look at these old toys, Nicky!”

“We aren’t supposed to be up here, Maddy. Daddy wouldn’t like it if he finds out.”

“I know. But aren’t you curious about why he keeps these old toys locked up here in the attic?”

So I’m in someone’s attic? Why? How? How come I can’t see anything or move? Am I a ghost or something? That makes little sense. Why would I linger in someone’s attic? I just wanted to be with my family, but I know that won’t happen, so moving on to heaven is the best next thing. I don’t want to linger here. I need to leave here. How can I leave from this place? I tried to move or do anything, but everything I tried still failed. I just want to move! At least let me see something. I don’t want to be left alone in the dark! Come on, please let me see something!

“Ooh! Nicky, look at this!”

“What is it Maddy?”

“It looks like one of those knitted rag dolls.”

Knitted rag dolls? Could it be? Is it my rag doll? Celeste? I tried again to at least see something and, with a lot of struggles; I saw. But it was different. It almost looked like I was staring out of someone else’s eyes. The other strange thing was is that it doesn’t seem like I need to blink or anything, and I couldn’t move my eyes but only stare straight ahead. My vision was blurry at first and it kind of freaked me out a little that it wasn’t clearing up. I couldn’t even blink away the blurriness which made this even more frightening. I felt like maybe I’ve gone blind or something.

I only saw a blob coming closer to me, and eventually the blurriness went away and I could see clearly. I still couldn’t move my vision anywhere else or blink, but I guess the upside is that I can see clearly now. That’s when I saw a young girl walking towards me happily. I noticed she looks about eight, and she had long black hair and green eyes. I noticed the boy behind her and saw he’s a splitting image of her. So they must be twins.

“Look at this rag doll, Nicky. It’s so cool! Look! It even has a name tag on it.”

Maddy picks me up, and that’s when it hits me. Am I the rag doll? But how? That’s impossible! I can’t be a doll because that’s just not normal. I tried to move and escape from the girl’s hold, but I still couldn’t move as she brought me over to her brother. He stared down at me and I noticed he didn’t seem all that interested in me, or well, the doll. I guess it makes sense in a way.

“Celeste?”

“Isn’t that an awesome name for this doll, Nicky?”

“Sure. I mean, it is just a doll.”

“A doll that our father locked up here.”

I’m possessing my rag doll. What are the odds of that happening? I don’t understand how this even happened, though. I love my doll, but I don’t want to be possessing it. In all honestly I thought they would’ve given my rag doll away to charity after I died, not lock it up in the attic. Then again, maybe they did. I don’t even know whose attic I’m in and I’m still freaked out about being here still.

The door to the attic swings open, and the little girl drops me on the ground with fright. I couldn’t flinch or move or even blink. I could only lay there face first onto the ground. I couldn’t see who came in and why the children became afraid suddenly. I hope whoever the person was; they weren’t hurting the children, but what can I do, really? I’m just a dead girl who is apparently possessing my rag doll. It’s so strange and frightening as I literally can’t do anything.

“What are you children doing up here? I’ve told you this attic is off limits.”

“Sorry daddy, but we got curious about what was in here.”

“Maddy, I locked this room up for a reason. Now please go downstairs with your brother and have your dinner.”

“Yes, daddy.”

I heard footsteps leaving away from me, and then it was quiet. I lay there face down on the ground, wondering if this was going to be my life now. Am I going to see the ground from now on? It’s my idea of an afterlife. In fact, none of this was.

If I could, I would’ve flinched when I suddenly heard footsteps coming towards me. I knew it couldn’t be the children, but maybe it was their father. It made me wonder if it was him, then why did he wait so long to move, and why move towards me? I became afraid. I wanted so badly to run or scream, but I simply couldn’t. I’m trapped. Motionless and speechless.

I watch as the ground got further and further away as I’m being picked up once again. I’m then turned around and what surprised me was that who im staring at wasn’t some stranger. It’s my brother! Well, an older version of him. He looks to be around thirty and has bags under his green eyes. The green that I used to have when I was alive as well. It makes me wonder how he’s been holding up after my death, but just seeing him now and how tired he looks then maybe not good. Of course, it could just because of his kids.

I died when I was thirteen, and he was only fifteen. So it’s been years. But then why am I conscious now inside of my rag doll? None of this makes little sense to me, but the expression my brother is giving me looks relief and calm.

“I’m glad you’re okay. They didn’t pull any of your sewn stitches out. I’m sure you’re conscious in their by now, Miranda. It is the anniversary of your death, after all.”