Picking it up again he began to really look at it. It was about a foot tall, made of some sort of cloth, the dress if you could call it that, was a very old style. Simple and made of rough materials. The face was sort of drawn on. Basic eyes, and nose and the mouth was no more than a thin line drawn about where the mouth should be. He sat on the edge of the bed staring down at it for what seemed like several minutes. Then it seemed to move. The eyes started to blink and the mouth seemed to form where they had been nothing but a pencil line. It seemed to be alive in his hand. The limp material seemed to stiffen up like it had real bones in it, and He could feel a heartbeat in his fingers. He thought he heard a voice. Then it slowly accrued to him the voice was in his head. At first, it wasn’t clear what it was saying. But it slowly came into focus in his mind. It became more real.
Suddenly the doll jumped out of his hands. It leaped over onto the bed next to him. It stood as upright and sober as anyone person could. The doll’s features seemed to become more lifelike. He slid back along the length of the bed. Hitting the headboard of the old bed. About then the voices in his head became crystal clear.
“It’s your turn,” they said. “My turn?” he thought. Before he could speak the words. The voice continued. “Yes, Your turn to die. I’ve been waiting for a very long time to meet you. And now you’ve come, you're a disappointment I like all the rest have. So you're useless to me.” Questions filled his mind. But before he could form them. He felt the uncontrollable urge to look out the window. He went to the window he was 10 stories up in the old brick tenement house.
Before he could stop himself he opened the window. The last thing he saw as he fell out the window was the dolls evil face laughing at him.
A week later they found the old doll tucked in a steamer trunk that he had put in storage more than a decade before he had killed himself.