Special grade cursed object. Curse. Haunted. Ill-fated Doll. Showa era memories.

In 1958, my mother took the Doll out of the closet.
It had a cotton-stuffed body and a hand-stitched face. The cloth skin, washed many times, was fuzzy, thin, and blackened in places. The eyes were not glass, but black thread balls.

"It's been in our house since before the war,"

my mother said, and sat it down beside the low table.

At night, a damp smell came from the Doll.
It smelled like un-dried laundry, like a living thing.

One morning, a red stain appeared on the Doll's arm.
My mother said nothing and wiped it with a rag.
That night, there was a cut of the same color on my mother's finger.

A few days later, the Doll's cloth skin looked strangely taut.
The seams were pulled, as if something was moving underneath.

Waking up in the middle of the night, I heard the sound of a needle from the living room.
My mother had the Doll on her lap, sewing silently.

"This child is cold,"

In the morning, a new piece of cloth had been added to the Doll's back.
The cloth had the same pattern as my mother's nightgown.

A few days later, my mother was gone.
In the living room, there was only the Doll.

The cloth skin was strangely close to a human body temperature.
The thread ball eyes slowly turned towards me.

Only those with a tolerance for the curse, please.
Please help it achieve enlightenment quickly.