Frightening Friday-Dolls

Photo courtesy of xandert via morgueFile

There's nothing quite so freaky as dolls. Yes, yes, I know there are tons of people who love dolls. I'm not one of them. Perhaps it's the frozen look of manic happiness on their faces or their soulless eyes, but seeing them staring at you from a shelf across the room is enough to make me want to run screaming.

My dislike of dolls turned into fear when I saw the movie Trilogy of Terror as a kid. Remember that one? As if blank-faced Barbies weren't freaky enough, the movie was about a little tribal doll who comes to life when its evil spirit is unwittingly released. The movie is laughable by today's standards of horror, but to an 11-year-old, it was terrifying.

After I saw that movie, my Malibu Barbie was banished into the closet. My stuffed animals could stay because I knew they'd behave, but Malibu had to go. This crushed my mother. My mother loved dolls. In fact, she made and collected dolls.  Rag dolls, clay dolls, even those labor-intensive bisque dolls that took weeks to make. She was always trying to give them to me. I tolerated Malibu Barbie because she had a tan (something I'd never have) but any other doll was a definite no. That was irony laughing at the two of us, I suppose.

So, here you go--a clip from Trilogy of Terror. Laugh away....or not.