Zhiyan woke up feeling uneasy. The morning light streamed through her window, and birds chirped outside, yet something felt… off. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and glanced at the shelf.
Xiaoxiao sat exactly where she had left it, its stitched smile frozen in place.
"I'm hungry, Zhiyan."
The whisper from last night echoed in her mind.
No. It was just a dream. It had to be.
Shaking off the lingering unease, she climbed out of bed and got ready for the day. Her mother had made porridge for breakfast, and the scent of warm rice filled the air.
As she ate, her grandmother watched her from across the table. "Did you sleep well, child?"
Zhiyan hesitated before nodding. "Mm-hm."
Her grandmother's gaze flickered to the doll, which she had brought downstairs and placed beside her bowl. A shadow of something—worry, maybe—crossed her face, but she said nothing.
That night, as Zhiyan lay in bed, Xiaoxiao nestled beside her once again. Sleep tugged at her eyes, and she was just about to drift off when—
"I'm hungry."
Zhiyan's eyes snapped open.
The voice was clearer this time, soft but unmistakable. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest.
She turned her head slowly. The doll was lying beside her, its button eyes staring at the ceiling.
She swallowed hard. "W-what do you eat?" she whispered, not even sure why she was speaking to it.
A pause.
Then—
"Just a little rice."
Zhiyan bolted upright.
This was crazy. Dolls don't talk. But what if… what if she just put some rice out? Just to see? Maybe it was just her imagination, and this would make the voice stop.
Trying to keep her hands from shaking, she crept downstairs to the kitchen. Her parents were asleep, so she had to be quiet. She took a tiny handful of leftover rice from the pot and placed it in a small dish. Then, holding her breath, she tiptoed back to her room.
She set the dish on the floor in front of Xiaoxiao. The doll, of course, didn't move.
Feeling ridiculous, Zhiyan whispered, "Here. Eat."
Silence.
She climbed back into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. Her heart was still racing, but exhaustion eventually won over her fear, and she fell into a restless sleep.
The next morning, the dish was empty.
Zhiyan stared at it, her stomach twisting into knots.
She hadn't imagined putting the rice there. She hadn't imagined anything.
Had the doll… actually eaten it?
Or worse—what if something else had?