I Hate Dolls

I know, what a generic thing to talk about in a story like this, as stories about creepy dolls were shared around to death, but hey, surely someone on here will be interested in what I am talking about as I have something similar to share.

I was four years old around this time, and I was never fond of dolls, nor was I the person to even own one. Not that I find them girly, not at all. I just hate them; I found them creepy to look at, and the horror movies I watched about them didn’t make my opinion on them better.

However, in this story I am about to share, at no point am I going to say any doll came to life and started hunting me down. No, it started to just follow me in my life; again, I don’t mean it got up and started chasing me; I am not sure; I guess it was only my imagination.

In 2012, my parents brought home a doll; they told me that they found it on the sidewalk outside, as it was raining so the doll was pretty wet but the appearance of the doll was pretty unsettling. It looked dark and was wearing a green dress. It had black hair, which looked as if it were in motion, probably due to a breeze of some sort.

As soon as they brought it inside, I was just staring blankly at my parents, almost wanting to say, “Are you freaking serious right now?” I felt uncomfortable right when I saw it… However, they were unfazed and just cleaned the doll up and placed it on my shelf.

As they left my room, I just looked out of the window; the sun was just now going down, and it was approaching nighttime. Well, for god sakes, I didn’t want to sleep in my room because of this doll, but hey, I should try and give it a chance. Anyway, I had to get some sleep; the room was getting quite cold, which was bothering me as I really wanted to get up and ask my parents to turn off the air conditioner, but I just wanted to suck it up and try to sleep.

I was still unnerved by the doll, but the rain hitting the window was helping me sleep through the night. However, I felt something on my bed. I didn’t want to open my eyes, and since I own a pet cat, I tried praying to God that the doll wasn’t sitting on my bed, but I risked it and then opened my eyes.

At the end of my bed was the shadow of the doll staring at me. Well, that’s what I thought until I turned on the light, only to see my black and white cat, Samuel, looking at me, and I looked at the shelf. The doll was still sitting there, so I just decided to pet my cat as he purred and laid down on my lap to sleep. I went back to sleep as well, feeling less scared now.

Soon enough, I fell asleep, but I started dreaming.

It started off normal but quickly got disturbing.

As I was still asleep, I heard some small thumping movements; there was cold air and some odd smell. I woke up with the sun shining through the window; the doll was just sitting on my shelf like it was earlier, but something caught my eye. I got up and inspected it. On the skeletally thin arm, I held it a bit only to see some dark red fluid on the hand. I let go immediately, but some of the substance went on my hand. I sniffed it, and it smelled irony. I know that may not make sense to you, but the substance had that metallic-like smell.

I rubbed it off of my hand and onto the shelf, but it stained it, and as I was looking through the hallway, I saw a trail of that very same substance, stained, and I followed it to the laundry room, the smell getting stronger and stronger. I looked closely at the trail, and I noticed something: there was some fur on it. The trail was leading up to the washing machine, and so I opened up the lid and saw something that would make me cry and vomit in fear.

My heart started racing, and my hands were trembling as my hand was still holding the lid. It was Samuel… He was mangled up, staring at me with teary-looking eyes, motionless. I already knew what the red substance was now. It was supposed to be blood. I turned the machine off, not wanting the cat to be even more mangled further, and I screamed out for my mom and dad, holding my cat until I noticed he was moving still. Very startled, I quickly placed him on the ground gently and backed up… He was just walking as if he were alive but clearly dead. I looked underneath it and noticed that the cat had some cables in it.

Then I saw the doll sitting on the living room counter; it was just there holding a controller as if it were playing some screwed-up video game of some kind. Then, in the fit of rage, I pulled the controller away and broke it in pieces, grabbed the doll as I threw it into the trashcan and picked it up, and went outside. Ironically, there was a garbage truck nearby, so I just tossed my entire trash can into it. I was shocked by my strength, especially for my age, but this was clearly just a dream, so it’s just what it is.

I woke up after that, feeling very horrible, but it quickly went away after my cat came and hopped onto my lap and licked me all over my face. I laughed as I petted him, the purring vibrating my skin. Then I turned to see the doll sitting on the shelf and glared at it, still angry about the dream.

I got out of bed, my cat following me as I went into the dining room to eat some breakfast. It was a normal day for the most part, but I still felt the eerie feeling of being watched. I asked my parents about it, and they’ve also felt watched. They asked about my attitude, and I told them about the dream I had. They didn’t laugh it off; their eyes widened in shock as they also recounted similar dreams I had, similar in detail, but instead of the doll moving on its own, they told me something else.

Everything about the cat being mutilated and murdered by the doll was completely different this time; instead, my parents recounted that some intruder broke into the house and used the doll to make them seem like idiots, placing it in random locations around the house, and murdered our cat.

My dad got up and walked over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder, and assured me that the doll wasn’t actually dangerous. But they believed in what I was saying and to warn them if anything seemed out of the ordinary.

However, the next night. I tried to get the doll out of my mind as Samuel curled up beside me; his warm presence is what’s keeping me from going insane right now. The room was eerily silent, and the rain stopped, so I eventually drifted off. But in the dead of night, I felt something again.

My heart started beating again as I hesitated to open my eyes and prayed that it was just Samuel trying to spook me again… But I started to doubt it, and then I eventually opened my eyes because I am an idiot.

It was the doll sitting there staring at me. My hands started trembling as I backed up against the wall behind me and turned on the light immediately, but I saw my pet cat sitting there, wagging his tail playfully. I let out a sigh of relief as I petted him, calming my racing heart.

I laid back down. I started thinking to myself. How is Samuel placing the doll in places perfectly? I could tell something wasn’t right, so I just picked up the doll and placed it back on the shelf and went to sleep.

Of course, the same thing kept happening in the next few nights in a row, and every morning, I would see the doll in different parts of the room, always in the pose as if it were watching me. Even my parents were weirded out by this and suggested that I try and put the doll in a high place on the shelf where my cat couldn’t reach it.

And so I did, as one evening I decided to place the doll on the highest shelf, out of Samuel’s reach, and eventually went to bed as it was just now becoming nighttime. I woke up in the dead of night again and saw the doll sitting there on the bedside table next to my alarm clock staring at me, but before that, I thought I heard someone walking around my room.

I told my parents about it, and their skin went pale. They told me that if I see the figure in my room clearly, I should alert them immediately. My dad agreed to stay up in the living room in case anyone came out of my room that night. In the next night, I heard somebody in my room, and in perfect timing, I saw a large man staring down at me from the foot of my bed, holding the doll in his hand, and I saw the figure run away after I spotted him, and then I stayed in my bed in fear, and I heard my dad shout:

“HEY, WHO ARE YOU? GET OUT OF THE HOUSE NOW BEFORE I GRAB MY GUN!”

Then I stepped out of my room, and I got a good look at the intruder as he turned to stare at me; he was hooded in dark clothing and had a deranged grin on his face, then he ran towards me until I slammed the door shut and I heard my dad tackle the man. My mom called the police immediately, and they arrived just in time.

The police pulled the man out of the house and placed him in handcuffs, and one of the officers asked what was going on. I hesitated, and I just held out the doll. The officer was unnerved at the object I was holding but asked me to give it to him.

Then he tore open the back of the doll, and he gasped in horror… We were told that someone placed a tracker inside of it, which allowed the intruder to sneak into the house while we were asleep. The officer removed it immediately and asked if we wanted to keep the doll still. I stared at my parents and nodded ‘no’ to them, and they noticed the fear in my eyes and sighed; they knew what I was going through.

The officer got rid of the doll, and I have never seen it again since my recent nights and to this day, as a teenager. I still thank my parents for believing me and not dismissing my fears like your average cliched parents in horror movies. At the age of seventeen now, I am a teenager. I have matured since that day, living a good life.

I was scrolling through Tumblr until I saw a photo of that very doll. My memories came flooding back. The photo consisted of the doll sitting on a quilted bedspread that has a pattern of red and white squares. There was a window on the left side of the image and a wooden nightstand with some items on it.

Who in their right mind would have that doll? Look, I didn’t experience anything paranormal about it, but it looks cursed. However, in the corner of my eye, I believe that the doll is peeking at me around the corner of my door; it is my imagination, I know, but even to this day.

I hate dolls; I hate them so much.