The Dolls

I snuck behind the couch, peeking at the television. My parents were watching Revenge of the Haunted Dolls, I begged and begged them to allow me to watch it with them, but they told me I was too young and would get nightmares. I'm in fourth grade now! I can watch a silly movie about dolls without getting scared! I've been playing with dolls for as long as I can remember, they've never hurt me before and I don't expect them to do so. The little girl on the television played hopscotch outside with her friends, holding her favorite doll in her hand. She gently placed it down on the ground and shouted,"My turn! Give me the pebble!" She continuously hopped and dropped the pebble, picking it up after each square. Suddenly she tripped, forcing all of the other girls to laugh. She gripped her knee, which was all bloody from the impact on the concrete. Tears streamed down from her face as the girls continued to laugh at her. She looked utterly mortified at her mistake when suddenly the girls stopped laughing. They all had concerned looks on their faces, almost like they were scared. The camera turned to the doll, standing and looking at the girls. It tilted its plastic head and grew a slight smirk on its face. The girls stood like statues, any movement they tried to make made no effect to where they stood. Quickly, the doll ran up to the girls and attacked them, it pulled their hair, tripped them up, kicked them surprisingly hard, and did any other violent acts it could think of to them.

A loud scream slipped from my mouth as my parents turned around. I froze, almost just like the girls in the movie when they saw the doll moving.

"Eliza! What are you doing in here!? We already said you were too young to watch this movie. Go to bed, and stay there this time."

My mother's words made me feel dirty. I had never disobeyed them before, and she was right, I was scared.

When I got to my room I jumped in my bed and hid under my covers, trying to feel as safe as possible. It didn't work. All I could think of was my toy chest of dolls on the other side of the room. What if they crawled out of it and beat me up like in the movie!? I peeked through the covers and looked in the direction of the toy chest, no dolls were out. For what felt like forever I tried falling asleep, but all I could think of were the dolls. Could they hurt me like in the movie? At this point, I couldn’t take it anymore! I crawled up from the covers and carried all my dolls outside. My parents were asleep on the couch now, it was easy to sneak by. I’ll never get any sleep with these dolls in my room. I thought to myself, I could just bury them outside and dig them up tomorrow, and I did just that. I grabbed my mother’s gardening shovel from the shed and dug a reasonably large hole. I got a wonderful sleep that night, knowing that I was safe and away from any harm.

I woke up that morning and immediately went outside to dig up my dolls and clean them off. When I arrived to their hiding spot, they weren’t there.

“Mom, did you dig up my dolls from the backyard?”

“Dig up your dolls!? Why were they buried?”

“Well...I got a little scared, so I buried them outside.”

“Buried what outside,” asked my father with the morning newspaper in his hands.

My mom poured coffee into two cups,”Eliza buried her dolls outside and now she can’t find them.”

“Bury them!? I knew she was too young to watch that movie.”

“Dad, that’s not the point! I don’t know where my dolls are!”

I marched up the stairs and into my room. No one even cares that my dolls are missing!? I opened my door and paused. I felt like a deer in headlights, unable to move over what I saw. Eleven dolls stood at my door, almost as if they were waiting for me.

I laughed, peeking through the door I shouted,”Very funny you guys!”

I giggled to myself they must have seen me bury them outside and decided to prank me. I grabbed a box to place them in, but when I turned around they were in a different spot than before, now they all laid on my bed.

“Guys I get it stop trying to scare me,” I shouted.

I walked over to the dolls, ready to place them in the box, but a strange force pulled me on the floor. I turned around, expecting to see my parents behind me, but no one was there. I looked back at the dolls, one was now holding a shovel and the rest were holding ropes. Are they m-moving!?

The doll with the shovel walked up to me, shocked out of what I was witnessing, I did nothing.

The doll took a hard hit at my head with the shovel, rendering my vision to become blurry. I tried shouting for help but the doll took another hit at my head and all that came out of my mouth was a quiet,”Mom Da-”

I slowly opened my eyes, I could feel blood trickling down my head. I was in a hole dug into the ground, tied up with a piece of cloth shoved up my mouth. The dolls repetitively shoveled dirt on top of me.

As the dolls shoveled in their last bits of dirt into the hole one spoke,”You bury us and we bury you. The only difference is that we got out...and you never will.”

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