The Doll - download as a pdf
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANDI!!! How does it feel to be 12 now?” Dad shouted in my face.
“…Great… I guess,” I said.
Every year my dad asked me that same question. I mean, well, yeah, when I was little I used to love it when he would do that; but c’mon, I’m 12 now, it’s just lame, especially when he does it in front of all my friends.
So, we continued with my birthday ritual. We ate cake, played game, and then, my favorite part—presents. My Great Aunt Amelia was always one of my top givers, so I opened hers first. I ripped the colorful paper with gusto. So far, my birthday party was about as exciting as a bowl of oatmeal, and I thought this might add some life to it. I would soon discover that it would do anything but.
It looked like an ordinary doll: porcelain face, pretty smile, happy eyes —obviously an antique. I thanked Aunt Amelia, despite my embarrassment from her gift. Now, I like a doll as much as the next gal… well, so I don’t really like dolls—at all. I was 12, after all.
About a week later, I got a a call from Aunt Amelia. “Hello, Andi, how are ya? Isn’t that doll just the bee’s knees?”
To tell you the truth I had completely forgotten about the doll. “Yeah, Aunt Amelia,” I said, annoyed.
“Anyway, I’m coming over in about an hour to give you some dresses I found that would go perfectly with her. See you then!”
I didn’t know it then, but my doll didn’t like being forgotten. At all… I searched all over the house for that doll. It is like she just disappeared! After looking every place I could think of, I checked the only place in the house that was left: the basement. Our basement isn’t furnished like most houses’. Ours is dark and damp. Nothing but the usual basement stuff : some tools, boxes of holiday decorations and our washer and drier.
I found her in a corner of our basement, hidden beneath a spider web. Her dress was torn and her expression was… horrifying. Her eyes were bright red and angry. Her lips were pursed. And she had an evil glare. How she became like this, I couldn’t explain. It was the most frightening thin I have ever seen. One minute she was a beautiful porcelain doll and the next minute she was this hideous, scary scene. I was totally horrified. “Is this real, or am I dreaming? I thought to myself. “Not a dream, more like a nightmare.” This was only the beginning.
Oddly, I was the only person to notice the eerie powers of my doll. Time and time again she would just disappear. I would find her, snatch her up and toss her somewhere in my bedroom. The mystery grew every time it happened.
For about two weeks, nothing happened with the doll, until one morning when our electricity went out. There was no storm, no power outage, nothing. Our power was just out. Coincidentally, the doll was gone. I didn’t tell my family about her since I figured they would just laugh. I grabbed my flashlight and ran into the basement. I was scared, frankly, but I didn’t show it. I stomped into the dark room and shone my flashlight all around. Nowhere to be found. I stood silently. Behind me, I could hear heavy breathing. I turned slowly, afraid of what I would see. There in the middle of the stairwell was the doll, holding the wires she had pulled from the circuitry. She stared at me; I stared back. What would I do?
I screamed “Mom!” and my mom came running down the steps. She looked at me as though I was crazy. “Didn’t you see her, Mom” I yelled out with an exasperated gasp. The doll lay on the ground and the wires were across the room. “The doll was here! She was standing and breathing, too! Mom, you have to believe me!” I was screaming now. I knew she wouldn’t believe me deep down, but I tried and I tried anyway. People must believe me.
I called up Aunt Amelia, and told her the whole story, hoping she would understand. I kind of exaggerated, just to convey my point. To my surprise, she totally believed me. She told me that at the antique shop, the salesperson had told her an odd story of how the doll was uncovered in a fire and was said to have a curse. It said when she was neglected she would rebel. Just my luck, Aunt Amelia had to skip most of the details in a rush to get somewhere. I went online and searched cursed dolls on some ghost website. After about twenty minutes of searching, I was ready to give up, until I saw a black and white picture of a house burning down. Next to it was a picture of a doll—my doll.
The girl who previously had owned the doll died in the fire in the picture. The legend says that the doll thought that the owner had abandoned her and that she was worried that all other owners would do the same. This all fit perfectly with Aunt Amelia’s story.
There was only one thing left to do. I had to convince my parents that the doll really did have odd powers. Aunt Amelia believed me, so she could help. But the question now was—How?
First, I printed out the article on the doll and showed it to Mom and Dad. I didn’t really expect them to believe me this easily and, to my expectations, they didn’t. I came up with an ingenious plan to foil my doll’s evil scheme. I would set her up to do one of her tricks, and I would catch it on tape.
I followed the curse and neglected her as much as possible. I knew something would happen sooner or later. I took my dad’s old video camera and I set it up in the basement.
Later that afternoon, I went down in the basement to do one of my weekly chores, laundry. I loaded everything up, put in the soap and sprinted upstairs.
Fifteen minutes later, I heard shouting. “ANDIIIIII!!! What did you do to the laundry? You completely flooded the basement!” Mom shouted.
I couldn’t believe it! The doll was at it again! I checked the camera. Nothing. My plan failed. I watched it over and over. Finally, I spied a flash of pink and white. The doll! I played it to Mom and she saw it too. We watched the video in slow-motion. The doll had turned the washing machine on high while I went upstairs. My plan did work! We took her back to the antique shop and got a refund. We went home without the cursed doll.
* * *
“Mommy, look at this pretty doll!” a little girl at the shop exclaimed. “Can I get her?”
Third Place Winner: Grace Guibert
