Flash Fiction Friday - Porcelain Wrap

Who doesn't love a creepy doll?

“What’s his story?” the young orderly asked.

“Which one?”

The young man sighed, already doubting his decision to accept the job. he has already met a few of the other orderlies and they all seemed either jaded or disinterested in the patients they were supposed to be caring for.

“The one with the doll.”

“Ah, that’s Billy and his mother,” the older man replied, putting the last word in air quotes.

“His mother?”

“Listen, kid, you have to understand that these people are all fucking nuts. They’re no-hopers. We spoon feed them, wipe their asses as needed, and take the big check this place delivers every two weeks.”

The you man frowned. Seeing the expression, the older one laughed. “I get it. I was like you in the beginning. The good Samaritan looking to make a difference. There’s none to be made. Do your thing, then take the money and go home.”

Biting back a curt response, the orderly instead asked, “So what’s his story.”

With a roll of the eyes, the old one spoke. “Billy was a single man and a bit of a momma’s boy. Cared for the old broad and barely left the house. They were essentially partners, which is totally fucking creepy, but I’ve heard worse.”

The young man nodded, although he wanted nothing more than to pop his boss in the jaw.

“Anyhoo, the old broad died and left Billy in charge of the estate, which actually proved to be a decent amount of money. He sold off a lot of the stuff in the house, but he couldn’t part with momma’s favorite doll for love or money., even when it started talking to him.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah. He says that it spoke to him in his mom’s voice, slowly driving him insane. He stuck it up in the attic, but whenever he did, he would come down for breakfast in the morning to find the doll sitting at the table. He says the thing would scold him in mother’s voice.”

The young orderly looked closer at the man sitting by the window, rocking back and forth, thumb jammed in his mouth while his other hand held the doll.

“He hasn’t spoken for years now, but some of the residents say that they hear the voice of an old woman coming from his room, scolding Billy for one thing or another. It’s all bullshit, Davey boy. Like I said, they are all too far fucking gone.”

Davey looked at the man once more and thought of his own dead mother, grief stabbing his heart, ever so gently.

The doll looked back at him and smiled, and he could swear he heard it say his name.