July 2nd, 1998.
My little girl came running home today. I just thought she had a great day at school, but then I saw it. It was just an old fashioned doll. She wore a medieval dress. It was very pretty. It was a black dress with red at the rim/end. It was old though. Not made in 1900’s. No it looked like it was handmade in 1700’s. It was old, but yet so nicely made. Nobody could make a dress that unique, and perfect. Not a single stitch was out of place. Not a single thread hanging off. Her eyes were a different story though. They were so realistic. They shined in the light, and they looked as if they danced. They danced to their own tune, and they seemed to watch me. I couldn’t seem to figure out why. It was if they watched my every move, watching me from afar, studying me, needing me. Her skin was probably the creepiest though. Her skin was just so real. The paint looked as if someone had just painted her a few hours ago. It looked so real, I thought it was soft, and just had to rub the paint. Not even a flake let go, it just stayed, nothing could remove it. Her hair had to been real though. It was long, blond hair. I could feel the hair, it was as if someone had given up her/his hair. It was so soft, and silky. Each hair was in place, no a single hair was out of place, except the hair do was a little messed up from my daughter running with her, but everything about her was un-normal. To real, not natural. Everything was to life like, to living, to human. Yes it was as if a human was just dressed up as a doll. I can’t let her keep it, but I did forget to get her a gift, so why not?
“Mommy, mommy can I keep her?”
“Honey I don’t know, she doesn’t look like a normal doll.”
“But mommy!! You forgot to get me a birthday gift.”
She got me there. To be honest I didn’t forget, I just didn’t have the money to get her a gift. “Okay fine honey, you can keep her, but be careful with her. She looks fragile, and I don’t know where to go to get her fixed. Do we have a deal princess Jasmine?”
“Yes Queen mommy.” She giggled, and wobbled off, holding a doll that was the size of my 5-year-old daughter.
July 7th, 1998.
That damn doll. I can’t get my daughter to give her to me. She takes her everywhere, to the park, in the bath, in the shower, to bed. Everywhere she goes the doll goes with her. I can’t get rid of it. From day one things started to change. First she was just acting like a normal child, but in the middle of the night I woke up with the doll in my face. Just standing there, watching me sleep. It was as if she, no it was watching me, learning about me. I thought at first it was just placed there by accident, then I thought. My daughter was playing, and she moved her to scare me, but when I checked on her, she was sound asleep. When I woke her, she could barely keep her eyes open, and she spoke like a drunken person. I knew she couldn’t of moved the doll. I placed it back into her room, shut the door and walked away. I couldn’t fall asleep again though. Thoughts of how the doll did it scared me. I just sat on my couch, thinking, drinking, and wondering what I could do to help myself understand. After a few drinks of wine, I decided to I needed cameras. It took a few days, but I found the best places, and set them up. That was when things took a turn for the worse. Objects, mainly mine started to vanish, or be placed into a different place. My daughter, was starting to well… change. She started getting mouthy, stopped talking at times, and locking herself in her room so she, and that “thing” can talk. I started to become more, and more worried. I felt like my world was once a cloud holding up a rainbow, but now it just a thunderstorm. Nothing but darkness, fear, lighting, and thunder, all the time. The rainbow is gone, and replaced with horror.
July 15th, 1998.
Michael, our dog is gone. We don’t know where he ran off too. We’ve had him for about 7, 8 years now, but now, we can’t find him. He’s so loyal, he wouldn’t do this, but I can’t seem to find him anywhere. He’s just gone. I didn’t know how to tell the kids. They loved him so much. I couldn’t watch them cry, but I had no choice. I called them, and told them about Michal. My 10 year old son was crying a river. I held him for hours, as if I was trying to get a crying baby to stop crying. He cried, and cried, until he fell asleep. I didn’t leave his side, but my little girl she just smiled. She had a smile so big it was as if she met mickey, or minnie mouse. She didn’t stop smiling, and laughing. I know she had something to do with Michael's vanishment, but how could a 5-year-old do something like that? She is so sweet, kind, and loving, how could she make a dog vanish? I can’t figure it out. She was the one who loved him the most, “nothing could ever replace him.” Those were the words she told me when Michael was hit by a car, and almost died. Those were the saddest words anyone could ever say. She spoke them, and I just fell to the ground. I couldn’t stop crying. Instead of myself being her rock her, she was my rock, my wall. She’s not the same anymore. She won’t talk to anyone else, but that doll. She came home once covered in blood the day Michael di-, Oh god, could she have killed Michael? No she’s too kind, she wouldn’t of, no couldn’t of done it.
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