Scary stories I wrote

The Whispering Dolls

Mia was thrilled when her grandmother sent her a special gift for her eighth birthday-a beautifully hand-carved doll in a vintage dress, a collector's item her grandmother had always kept on the highest shelf. The doll had a porcelain face, delicate features, and glassy eyes that seemed to follow Mia around the room.

"Isn't she beautiful?" her mother said, placing the doll carefully on Mia's shelf.

Mia nodded, but she felt a little uneasy. There was something about the doll that made her uncomfortable, though she couldn't quite explain why. That night, as Mia lay in bed, she swore she heard something-faint whispers, like someone talking just outside her bedroom door.

She sat up, holding her breath, straining to listen.

"Mia..." a voice hissed, barely audible.

She froze. The whispers were coming from her shelf. From the doll.

Mia scrambled out of bed and ran to her parents' room, her heart pounding. "Mom! I heard something-someone's talking in my room!"

Her mother groggily comforted her. "It's just your imagination, honey. You've had a big day. Go back to sleep."

Reluctantly, Mia returned to her room, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the doll's glassy eyes were watching her. She tossed and turned all night, but eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

---

The next day, Mia decided to avoid the doll altogether. She wouldn't look at it, wouldn't go near the shelf, and certainly wouldn't touch it. But that night, as she lay in bed, the whispers returned.

"Mia... Come closer..."

She pulled the blanket over her head, shaking. Her heart raced as the whispers grew louder, more persistent. She could hear her name, over and over again, as if the doll was trying to speak directly to her.

By the third night, the whispers were unmistakable.

"Mia, I know your secrets..."

The voice was clearer now, and it was coming from the doll. In a mixture of fear and curiosity, Mia crept out of bed and tiptoed toward the shelf. She stood there, trembling, staring at the doll.

"Mia... they don't believe you..." the doll whispered. Its lips never moved, but Mia could hear the words as if they were being whispered right in her ear.

Mia gasped and ran to her parents' room again. This time, she was in tears, begging them to take the doll away. "Please! It's whispering to me! It knows things!"

Her mother and father exchanged concerned glances, but they reassured her it was just a bad dream. To ease her worries, her mother agreed to take the doll and put it in the attic. "See? It's gone," she said. But Mia didn't feel any better.

---

For a few nights, things seemed to return to normal. No whispers, no strange voices. Mia began to think maybe she had just imagined it. Maybe she was overreacting.

But then, on the fifth night, the whispers came back-this time louder than ever.

"Mia... you shouldn't have put me away..."

Her eyes shot open. The doll was no longer in the attic. It was sitting at the foot of her bed.

She screamed, bolting upright. Her parents rushed in, finding her trembling, pointing at the doll. "It's here! How did it get here?!"

Her parents were confused. Her father retrieved the doll and checked the attic-it was locked, just as they had left it. Mia's mother began to grow frustrated. "Mia, you're imagining things," she said, but Mia knew it was real. The doll had moved on its own.

---

The next day, her parents left her with a babysitter, insisting she needed to relax and let her imagination settle down. But Mia couldn't stop thinking about the doll. As the evening grew darker, she started hearing whispers again, even though the doll wasn't in her room.

"Mia... I'm closer than you think..."

Terrified, she ran to the living room, where her babysitter was watching TV. The babysitter smiled reassuringly. "It's okay, sweetie. You're just hearing things. Do you want to watch a movie with me?"

Reluctantly, Mia sat down on the couch. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it-the doll. It was sitting in the hallway, partially hidden in the shadows, just watching her.

"Mia... she doesn't know..."

The babysitter didn't hear the whispers, but Mia did. She bolted from the couch, running to the doll and screaming at it. "Leave me alone!"

But the doll remained motionless, as if mocking her. The babysitter tried to calm Mia down, but the fear in the little girl's eyes made her uneasy. She decided to call Mia's parents.

When they returned home that night, they found Mia hiding under her bed, clutching a pillow, crying uncontrollably. Her parents, at a loss, decided to throw the doll away. They didn't believe in haunted dolls, but if getting rid of it would help Mia, then they would do it.

Her father took the doll out to the trash that night, tossing it into the dumpster. Mia watched him from the window, hoping that would be the end of it.

---

But it wasn't.

That night, Mia awoke to the sound of whispers again. Her heart sank. "No..." she whispered to herself, shaking her head. "No, it's gone."

She looked at the foot of her bed. The doll was sitting there once more, its glassy eyes glinting in the moonlight. But now, it wasn't alone. There were other dolls-smaller, older ones, with cracked faces and tattered clothes, sitting around her room, whispering in unison.

"Mia... we're all here..."

The chorus of whispers grew louder, filling the room, suffocating her with dread. Her heart pounded in her chest as the dolls seemed to edge closer, inch by inch, without moving.

In a panic, Mia screamed for her parents, but this time, no one came. She looked at the door-it was locked from the inside. The dolls' voices grew louder, overwhelming her.

"Mia... you belong to us now."

As the dolls whispered, one of them slowly tilted its head, and its cracked porcelain lips parted into a smile.

Word count not including this: 1017