“Eyes of the Doll: A Haunted Girl’s Plea for Freedom in a Forgotten Village”

 

The Eyes of the Dolls

Our village is called Shaldah. A small, quiet village. In one corner of the village, where the rows of Sal trees end, stands an old, dilapidated hut. The house is abandoned; no one has lived there for many years. The children of the village don't even go near that hut. Adults also quicken their pace when passing by. Because everyone knows that the souls of dolls reside in that hut.

I'm Rina. I study at a college in the city and come to the village whenever I have holidays. I'm twenty-two years old. Ghost stories, supernatural events – these things don't particularly interest me. I rather enjoy the natural beauty of the village. But the story of the doll's house often reached my ears. The village girls would say that there were many old dolls inside the house, and their eyes would glow at night. They supposedly held much resentment, many unspoken words.

One afternoon, my friends and I were chatting. Suddenly, I threw out a challenge, "I'm going to that doll's house. I'll see what's there." My friends backed away in fear. They tried to persuade me, but I wasn't one to be discouraged. A stubborn determination had taken hold of me – this superstition had to be broken.

The sun was setting in the western sky. I walked alone along the Sal tree path towards the hut. In my hand was a flashlight, and in my mind, an unknown curiosity. The closer I got, the faster my heart pounded. The hut was dilapidated, its door half-open. A putrid, damp smell emanated from within.

I carefully stepped inside the house. Thick layers of dust covered everything, and rows of cobwebs hung everywhere. The walls were broken, and the ceiling beams hung loosely. In one corner of the room, illuminated by the flashlight, I saw something. Old wooden boxes, and on top of them, countless dolls piled up. Small, large, wooden, cloth – dolls of various kinds. Their eyes were faded, the paint chipped in places.

I went closer to the dolls. As I shone the flashlight on them, a cold breeze seemed to brush against me. I picked up a doll. It was old but quite beautiful to look at. Its eyes were made of glass, somehow full of an eerie warmth.

Suddenly, I felt as if the doll's eyes were looking at me. I was startled. I rubbed my eyes and looked again; no, the doll was still. I tried to convince myself it was my imagination.

But then, a strange sound reached my ears. It was like someone whispering! "Look at me... look at me..."

A shiver ran down my spine. Who was speaking? I looked around, but there was no one. The sound seemed to be coming from the dolls themselves. The doll fell from my hand.

Just then, a flash of light burst from one doll's eye. Then another doll, and then another. One by one, all the dolls' eyes lit up! A soft glow emanated from their eyes, illuminating the entire room.

My whole body froze with fear. I wanted to scream, but no sound came from my throat. The dolls' eyes seemed to come alive. Their eyes expressed laughter, anger, sorrow – all kinds of emotions. It felt as if they were all trying to tell me something.

"We are alone here..." a clear voice seemed to emanate from one of the dolls. "We want freedom..."

I couldn't stand there for another second. Dropping the flashlight, I ran like mad. I burst out of the hut and ran desperately towards the village. The rows of Sal trees seemed to want to swallow me whole.

Panting, when I reached the village, my entire body was drenched in sweat. My friend Rupa looked at me in surprise.

"What happened, Rina? Why do you look like this?"

I couldn't speak, I just hugged Rupa.

The next morning, I went to the village elders. I recounted everything to the Pandit (village scholar): the dolls' glowing eyes, their whispers, and their plea for freedom.

The Pandit sighed deeply after hearing everything. "I knew that one day, someone would confront this mystery. A doll-maker's family lived in that hut many years ago. They had a little girl who loved dolls very much. But a plague wiped out everyone in the village, leaving only that girl alive. She took her last breath surrounded by her dolls. Her soul is said to still reside within those dolls."

I asked in surprise, "But why is she asking for freedom?"

The Pandit said, "She is tired of being alone. She wants someone to free her from this darkness. The dolls are her medium of expressing her soul. Their eyes glow to convey her pain and her yearning for freedom. If you hadn't fled in fear and had talked to her, perhaps you could have set her free."

A deep regret lingered in Rina's mind. She had only fled in fear that day. She might have been the path to freedom for a soul. From that day on, she never went near the doll's house again. But the dolls' glowing eyes and their whispers left an eternal mark of mystery in her mind. Shaldah village's doll's house still stands with its mystery, and within it lies the story of an unfulfilled soul's 

desire for liberation.