My book of horror stories

Teddy

My daughter won a teddy bear at a raffle, she treated it like her prized possession. Yet, she was never the same after she received it, she was always jumpy, on edge. At night she would scream bloody murder, but whenever I went to try and comfort her but the door was always locked. I tried getting her to open it, yet it never worked. The next morning she seemed normal, like nothing ever happened. She carried the bear everywhere with her, never putting it down, apologising if she dropped or something. She would blame all bad events on the bear, like when she dropped one of my vases, or smashed a plate. I just went along with it, it's normal for a child to do that right? The next thing that came were the deep knife wounds, the weren't self inflicted, nobody could keep their hand that steady while cutting into their own skin. I tried confronting her about it, yet I just got ignored or she would change the subject. The last thing that happened was that night, when she began shouting at something, I had grown used to things like this and I couldn't help even though it killed me that I couldn't. The next morning I went into her room to get her up for her first day a secondary school when I saw her in bed. Their was a scent of blood as well. I ripped the covers off her finding her eyes had been replaced with marble balls, her stomach was open with stuffing filling her corpse. I screamed and cried, until a neighbour must've alerted the police. I couldn't help the feeling I was being watched though. Yesterday was her funeral, she was buried with her beloved bear about 6ft underground. So how come that bear is next to my bed at this very minute? Watching me with its glassy eyes, a knife in its hand.

Made for Midnight_Twist