Jean opened the little attic door to find a small room filled to the brim with dust, spiders, and mouse droppings. There was an old desk, a big, broken trunk with a few old sheets inside, and a small toy chest with worn paint.
Inside were three porcelain dolls.
In the dark armed with only a flashlight, Jeanâs heart skipped a beat, but they brushed a cobweb off the most intact one and decided that in the daylight with some fresh paint they were probably quite pretty.
The box came down the stairs to the nursery, not yet occupied, but Sylvia was due to give birth in a month or so. Plenty of time to fix up the old toy chest.
âTheyâre probably possessed, just toss them out.â
âBut they could be pretty, and the toy chest is charming,â Jean pleaded.
Sylvia agreed, but they had to live in the garage until Jean finished the repairs.
That night, the lights in the garage wouldnt turn on, and Jean simply huffed, not wanting to think anything of it, she grabbed the box of dishes sheâd gone out for and went back into the house.
The following night, Sylvia woke Jean up, freaking out.
âDonât you hear it?â
âThe crying! Thereâs a little child sobbing, in the house! Its those dolls. I told you they were possessed. Put them outside. Now.â
Jean was used to odd requests throughout Sylviaâs pregnancy, so with a heavy footstep and half-hearted, âyes dear,â they wandered to the garage to find the toy chest.
Except the sound of crying, which Jean slowly realized she could hear, grew louder.
In the garage, a little girl, maybe eight? hovered over the toy chest, absolutely bawling.
Jeanâs immediate response was comfort.
âHey, its okay, I was just going to clean them up and freshen up the paint. Some new dresses are in order donât you think?â She knelt by the chest and the little girl looked up, tears stopped pouring and Jean was able to make out a rash on her face and neck. A ghost. A real ghost, a scared, sick little girl from ages ago.
It was barely a whisper, and she seemed to be mouthing more words, but Jean nodded.
âFix them.â She echoed.
The little girl disappeared in the blink of an eye, but the garage light turned on, nearly blinding Jean in the process.
Sylvia was still upstairs.
Jean decided to leave the dolls where they were and spend the next day fixing them up.
âIve taken care of it,â Jean half-lied as she crawled back into bed.
The next day she washed the doll dresses and cleaned their bodies. After digging around for her paints, she patched their faces and brushed their hair until they looked like new.
âI thought you said you took care of it.â
âI did. You might think Im crazy, but she was here. Crying over them. Just a little girl. No different than ours will be. She didnt want them to be thrown away. Iâm going to fix them up, then redecorate the attic. Remember how we wanted it to be a library? The dolls and toy chest can stay up there, on display.â
Sylvia pinched the bridge of her nose and rested her other hand on the prominent baby bump, âyou promised a dead little girl to fix her dolls.â
âShe was crying, I couldnt just throw them away!â
âOur daughter is going to be spoiled rotten isnt she?â
Jean grinned and kissed Sylviaâs cheek, âyes darling she is.â
For years, their daughter, Harper, loved to play with the dolls. Sometimes she would talk to an imaginary friend, who Jean wasnât sure was imaginary or not. All those early years, if something was lost, it was quickly found, and if Harper was in danger of something, she miraculously avoided it. Everything from a misplaced screw on the floor to a falling iron mysteriously avoided the ever curious little girl. Jean just thanked the heavens the little ghost girl was happy enough to lend a hand, whether Sylvia really believed in her or not.
When Harper was sixteen, Sylvia told the story of how they found the dolls. And one quiet evening, Harper managed to find the historical records of the house. In the late 1850s, the house had been used to treat children with Scarlet fever. Little Miriam has been one of the many victims. Her mother had been running the sick house and left her dolls in the attic, untouched for over a century before Jean decided to fix them up.
Harper insisted her mothers leave flowers after finding the location of her grave.
They left flowers for Miriam, and Miriamâs mother and two brothers. After that day, there was no sign of any ghost in the house, but every once in a while a doll would move a hand as if waving hello to and old friend.
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