pediophobia (n) fear of dolls
When we are children, the majority of little girls tend to have an affection toward dolls. Growing up, I was a bit of a tomboy in my childhood years. My family could also tell you not only did I not like dolls, I was actually rather frightened by them. Throughout those years, I had more than one unsettling encounter with a doll. (Stuffed animals were okay. In fact, they ruled. It was just girly dolls that freaked me out.) The one instance I remember the most (and a day my family will never forget) was a day that has gone down in infamy as “The Clown Doll Incident” the way my family refers to it.
In the late 80s/early 90s my immediate family owned a shore house where we would visit in the summer. Our family would invite relatives over and they’d stay for weekends with us. My cousin and I were best friends as children. We were inseparable and our favorite pastime was watching horror movies together.
On this particular day, we were watching Child’s Play. A movie about a doll that comes to life and tries to kill the child that owns it. (Nice, right?) Despite my uneasiness with dolls, we were not phased. In fact, we thoroughly enjoyed these cheesy 80s/90s horror flicks as kids. (We still do.) Although, there was something that caught our eye during the movie that we talked about the night before.
My grandmother used to keep this little Irish clown doll around. It was the most hideous thing you could imagine. To her, it was a cute little friend. To my cousin and I, it was demonic.
So, we plotted. As the movie was playing, we went and grabbed the creepy doll that had robbed us of sleep so many nights. We were going to play a game of soccer with it. We giggled and belly-laughed as we took out our fear and frustration with the terrifying thing. Then, the set up – I put the little demon on the floor and got ready for a powerful kick. The house had high ceilings with these huge cedar beams to protect the roof from collapsing during a storm. What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion.
As I ran forward to make the “goal” I pulled my leg back as far as I could. Then, I felt tremendous pain radiating throughout my entire leg. You see, as I went to kick the blasted thing, the top of my foot made contact with a known slope that went from our dining area into the living room. My ankle twisted all the way around and everyone in the house heard it snap. My body flopped to the ground and I let out a primal scream. My cousin stood there in shock and concern. The rest of my family ran over to help.
I was soon after examined. It turned out I had torn ligaments and a broken ankle. My cousin didn’t even crack a smile as he saw his best buddy hobbling out on crutches. We later talked about how strange it was that “the incident” happened while we were watching a movie about a killer doll. We still bring it up every once in a while.
Although there are many reasons I’m not too keen on dolls, I think that one takes the cake.
Notes: This post is a true story and I was inspired to share by aliceatwonderland’s post here. This is also my 200th post on CardCastlesInTheSky! Yay for milestones!