Have you ever seen a manikin and mistaken it for a real live human being? I mean these days, most of the manikins used in department stores are pretty damn realistic. And it scares the sense right out of me. You'll be walking around minding my own business, awesome shirt, cool pants, turn a corner. Then bam! There it is, with this sick perverted look on its face. Like its been waiting for you. They stand there stiff, with their fixed gaze, almost as if they're frozen in time. Stuck between two worlds. Screaming, begging for someone to understand the truth they conceal. Semi-figures of us. A dream of perfection.
They're often used in horror movie, playing an essential part in the development of both scene and atmosphere. Puppets, dolls, manikins, marionettes, toys created to please a child. What makes these objects so frightful? Is it simply the thought of another person standing still for so long? Making the mind play tricks, never really knowing for sure? Is it the thought of a child's purity, captured in an empty casing? The owners essence being passed on from generation to generation? The fact that they look human but aren't? Or is it their wide eyes, and smile, the facial expression as a whole, that induces chills throughout the body? You see happy people freak me out as well, it's just not normal... Constantly smiling. I always wonder why they're so happy. Is it because they chopped up dear ol' dad and mom's in the freezer? I think most people have some sort of reaction to overly ecstatic people. I mean it's not our fault, that literature and films choose to portray happiness as insanity. You need a reason to smile, otherwise it's just weird. Riiight, no more horror marathons for Merete...
Anyway. Dolls are extremely life-like, too life-like if you ask me. I keep thinking they'll wake up from some deep slumber and go straight for the jugular. Crazy right? Or is it. Don't tell me you don't backup a few steps, after encountering a manikin. Especially when it comes to museums. You never know what goes on in those places. The smell, the dark lights, and generally no sound at all, maybe like a low humming at the very less. Honestly I have the worst experiences with manikins. I'll even share one with you... *Que the awesome flashback haze* My family and I were at this civil war monument slash museum when I was around 8 or so. I remember it exactly, it was the Jenny Wade – house in Gettysburg. So we're having a looksee, and there's a manikin by the kitchen table. Well, out of nowhere the doll starts making noises, really creepy sounds, and a face begins to appear. Suddenly it's starts talking. A doll started telling her story, like he was asleep and then woke up. And you wonder why I'm scared of dolls attacking.
I don't remember all the details but her story went something like this. The Confederate troops were looking for supplies so people were hiding their food. At the same time Northern troops were also marching into Gettysburg (the good guys). Therefore many citizens decided to retreat to their cellars as protection against battle shells, since a confrontation was enevitable. Jennie (which actually was her nickname, she was born Mary Virginia Wade) and her family thought her sister's home would be safe enough, since it wasn't in the direct line of the fire. She prepared bread for the Union soldiers and filled their canteens with water. When the Confederates fired on the area, including the Wade house. Jennie refused to retreat to the basement. She was making biscuits for the Northern soldiers and felt it was her patriotic duty to remain. A confederate soldier, fired and the bullet went through the door of the Wade house and struck Jennie in the back. Now that's a bad day.
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Oh, but the trauma doesn't stop there, no. I absent-mindedly went down to the basement and foolishly entered this tiny little room. Guess what was there. On a narrow bench lay a girl with a white linen cloth covering her entire body, with the except of her black pointy leather shoes. That image still haunts me to this day. I thought it was a corpse and completely froze. I stood utterly still until the rest of the tour group caught up with me. The guide thought showing me the dolls face would help. You knwo snap me out of it. That night I had my first nightmare. Just the mere thought make me want to curl up and die. I just relized I've never told anyone this. I mean people know dolls freak me out, just not the reason behind it. I hadn't really gven it much thought up until now. Kind of a relief knowing it's childhood trauma and not a screw loose, eventhough I have several. Who needs a skrink when you can just blog about it. Hope you liked my personal insight. Deep right? Like a puddle.
Not all dolls are scary, I suppose but the older they are, the more intense they seem. Creeps me out.
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