Hermaphrodite Doll

I stole my childhood friend’s doll. Then, he called to complain.

I listened to him wail as the doll sat in my hand, its texture somehow akin to that of human skin.

Under its skirt was something remarkably female. This left me confused.

‘Is this doll female or male?’

Then, more importantly…

‘Did it come with both organs? Or is this modified?’

He sounded hysterical over the line. Surprised by this, I accidentally squished the doll’s limbs a little.

He wailed pitifully, “Who the hell took my doll!”

He was angry, but to me, it almost sounded like he was begging to be bullied.

I paused. “Are you watching an R-rated movie?”

“No! Who would have the heart to watch it when their life is in danger?!”

A terrible idea came to mind. “Are you being bullied…”

“No! But it’s just as bad,” He whined, “Please, you’re the only one who can help me. That doll…”

“What doll?”

“You remember how we went hiking the other day? And there was this temple at the back of the mountain…”

He muttered to himself, “Here it starts again...”

His voice got softer as he spoke, and he sounded moments away from breaking down, “I bought a doll that looked like me…”

Of course, I remembered this. The monk told us that if he gave the doll to the right person, he would be blessed with a happy relationship.

I tried to console him, “Hey, hey. Calm down, okay? It’s alright. We can always go back to the temple and get you another one.”

“No! The doll and I are connected! I can feel what happens to it!”

“Connected?” I cleared my throat, “Just because you’re handsome doesn’t mean I’ll believe everything that comes out of your mouth, dude.”

“No! You don’t get it! I can actually feel everything that’s done to the doll!”

I smiled and calmed myself before replying, “I told you the doll was weird, didn’t I? So, what happened to it?”

“I gave it away. I gave it to one of the more handsome ones when we were at the park yesterday.”

I was speechless. “That’s the one you chose? The one who put insoles in his shoes and still ended up being shorter than me?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Isn’t it?” I asked, “I thought you wanted to ask him where he got his insoles from.”

“Excuse me! I am one hundred and seventy-three centimeters tall! Why the hell would I need insoles?”

“I’m not the one complaining about my height. I thought you said you wanted to be as tall as me, and I’m one-eighty.”

“Still doesn’t mean that I need his insoles,” he muttered under his breath.

I shrugged, not that he would see it, and squeezed the doll’s chest. It was soft.

“Alright, so what has he done to your doll, then?”

He sucked in a cold breath and exhaled. After a while, I heard him say, “Nothing much, but sometimes he touches my head and squeezes my arms. He’s not rough with it, so I don’t feel it too much.”

“Guess he’s not that terrible then,” I replied decidedly, “It takes a kind man to treat some stranger’s doll with softness.”

“Kind my foot!”

I heard the sound of something falling, and then my friend’s voice disappeared.

I put the doll down and called out his name. Perhaps he had slipped and fell.

After a while, I heard him speak again, “I’m fine, just dropped my phone.”

He sounded exhausted. “Maybe the doll isn’t with him anymore. Someone else took it, I think, and that person kept talking the entire night. I couldn’t hear what was said exactly, but it sounded like there was a mosquito buzzing next to my ear the whole time.”

“Did you even get any sleep?”

“I wish I did. God, why is this happening to me?” He wailed, “I don’t know who has my doll right now, but whatever he’s doing, he’d better stop!”

I smirked and touched the doll where its center crease was.

“So what did he do?” I asked lazily.

He shrieked, “Ah! He’s doing it again!”