Fear of Dolls

On a day of boredom, my cousin visited my place bringing with her some dolls. By the shame of being a guy, I was asked to play along. At least she wasn't trying to scare me with them this time.

I have pediophobia, the illogicial fear of false representation of sentient beings. In short, I have a fear of dolls and to some extent, statues.

Local horror movies always depict possessed dolls with spinning heads chanting profanities in a childish voice. But, as far as I could remember, the sight of them always made me uneasy.

I recall seeing two human-like plushies hanged on a wall when I was a kid. I would refuse to eat in their presence as their visage induces nausea.

My younger cousin was aware of my fear. She would just throw the darn thing at me and it would land staring right into my soul. I swear, I saw that thing blinked.

Even chapels and churches scare me. Growing up in a Roman Catholic background, I am surrounded by statues of angels and saints. I even here tales of them moving around or even walking the church grounds at night.

There are also several stories of statues crying out blood or even speaking to unsuspecting people. It's like the divine likes to play mischief as well.

I didn't mind playing with my younger cousin. I'm beginning to see why girls would love dolls. It's almost the same way I would enjoy action figures or robots. Of course, I can't relate to the fashion scene or social activities in this make-believe world. And I'd rather start an imaginary fight between them than roleplay an episode from some comedy show.

As I rest from a tiring day, I turned around and found a doll beside me. My scream prompted my cousin's laughter whom I tickle-tortured for the nuisance.