Faceless dolls11/17/2023 ![]() “He’s your brother!” she would scold me with real fury in her eyes. Mom called the one in my bedroom Peter and forbade me to move him. There was a Mary, a Constance, an Abigail, an Adam, a Jeremiah, and many others I no longer remember. There was at least one in every room (including my bedroom), and they all had names. She had maybe another dozen scattered all around the house. Mom kept about twelve of these dolls in the room overlooking the cemetery. I saw a face that was screaming in terror, with a pair of too-small eyes and a jagged, irregular mouth near the doll’s chin. The cotton-like fiberfill that stuffed the doll to give it its shape poked out through the nylon exterior in places, and my imagination took over. ![]() Most of all, I remember how traumatizing it was the first time that I inspected one of them to find nothing except a lumpy and threadbare bag of nylon where the child’s face should be. I didn’t like how their poses always seemed to involve hiding or being upset to justify how they always stood with their backs turned to the room. They’re designed to face the wall, and so the front side is usually unfinished and doesn’t look like a person at all.Īs an eight-year-old, I was creeped out by their limpness and how they slowly slumped down if Mom didn’t readjust them every few days. They can be propped up in corners or against walls, and it looks like a child is covering their eyes as they sulk in timeout or count to ten as part of a hiding game. They’re life-sized and posed with their hands clasped in front of them. Later, I learned that they’re also called “shy kid” or “hide and seek” dolls. I rarely went into that room as a child because that’s where my mom kept most of the faceless dolls. We had a sitting room that overlooked the churchyard cemetery a short way down the road. My mother and I used to live together in a large house on the crest of a hill.
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