Red lipstick smacked the grinning death doll from cheek to chin. It’s pajamas carried the same light blue cloth, hair in a bun, even the same missing button at its neck.
The teeth yellow, the plastic skin aged, the fingers arthritic. It listened to my heart beat waiting for it to hasten and laugh at my coming demise.
The death doll turned its head backward. My heart skipped a beat, although thankfully resumed.
Its eyes rolled in circles, becoming white a moment. They met mine.
The doll said, “You came into the world screaming, now you’ll leave that way as well.”
The small doll crawled into my mouth.