Beyond Borders long-distance love stories

 

THE DOLL

The Portrait on the Wall

​The parcel arrived at Anna's doorstep without a return address or sender's name. Inside was an old, beautifully painted portrait on canvas. Standing about two feet tall, the woman in the artwork had striking dark eyes that felt uncomfortably lifelike. Tucked into the frame was a small handwritten note:

​“Now that we are together again, we will never be apart...”

​As Anna read the words aloud, an eerie chill ran down her spine. Looking up, she could sworn the eyes in the painting had shifted to lock onto hers. Trying to dismiss her growing unease, she hung the canvas on her living room wall.

​Seeking a distraction, Anna went to visit her elder sister, Maria. For months, Anna had been carrying immense guilt over the death of their mother, who had suffered from severe paranoid schizophrenia and passed away alone in an asylum.

​While having tea, Anna mentioned the delivery. "It reminds me of the sketches Mom used to make for us when we were kids," she said softly.

​A wave of foreboding washed over Maria. "Who sent it?" she asked. When Anna admitted she had no idea, Maria felt a subtle prickle of fear, though she tried not to show it.

​Anna returned home that evening and headed straight to the shower. As she stepped out, a soft, familiar tapping echoed from the hallway. Wrapping a towel around herself, she crept into the living room and froze in sheer terror.

​The face on the canvas was actively distorting—the smooth features warping into the hollow cheeks, sunken eyes, and furious expression of her late mother.

​Panicking, Anna ripped the painting off the wall, shoved it inside a dark storage trunk, and slammed the lid shut.

​In the dead of night, she was jolted awake by the sound of wood scraping. The latch of the trunk clicked open. Soft, barefoot steps pattered down the hallway toward her bedroom door. The handle turned, and the figure from the canvas stepped into the room, whispering in a raspy, familiar tone:

​"You thought you could leave me?"

​Anna screamed until her lungs burned, blacking out as the shadow loomed over her.

​The next morning, Dr. Alex observed Anna through the one-way mirror of the psychiatric facility. She sat motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the far corner of the room.

​"She hasn't spoken a word since the paramedics brought her in," the nurse reported.

​Moments later, Maria walked in, carrying a framed canvas she had retrieved from Anna’s apartment. "I brought this for her," Maria told the doctor softly. "I thought having something familiar might help her feel at home."

​The moment Maria brought the portrait into view, Anna shrank into the corner, screaming hysterically.

​Maria and Dr. Alex exchanged concerned looks. To them, it was merely an ordinary, pleasant landscape painting. Dr. Alex sighed and made a note on her clipboard.

​"I'm sorry, Maria," the doctor said quietly. "It appears your sister is beginning to show the exact same severe auditory and visual hallucinations as your mother."

​Clutching her knees as she stared at the canvas, Anna wept silently, hearing her mother's voice echo in her mind once more:

​"We will never be apart..."