Creepypasta Stories

Wandering Alexis

Some people just don't understand I guess. I sat on my bed alone, running my fingers through my dolls hair. I always did this when I'm stressed. The doll in my hands is an adorable clay Alice in Wonderland doll. I have always loved the Disney movie when I was a kid. The creativity it toke to come up with such a plot like that never failed to inspired me. I was always fascinated with the imagination and what it can do. I looked down at the doll and smiled at it. Alice's blue eyes stared back at me with such depth I would dare say she was real. At least she was in my imagination. Every night I would place her on my nightstand so she could watch over me as I slept. If for some reason I forgot to place her where she could see me, I would have a nightmare. She was kinda like my lucky charm. I would always feel so safe and protected around her. Like nothing could go wrong.
"Alexis?" My mom opened my door and looked at me. I quickly stopped stroking her hair and smiled innocently at her. "It's getting late. You need some sleep." Mom smiled at me tiredly. I looked at the clock on the wall. "It's okay 9:40, mom. I'm 15. I can stay up later than 10." I protested. She sighed, and nodded. "Just don't stay up to late." With that, she closed the door behind her. I shook my head and looked at Alice. "Can you believe her? She's always trying to baby me." Alice remained silent. I sighed and laid back, continuing to stroke her soft hair.

I must have passed out or something, cause when I woke up it was around 3:26 in the morning. I looked around my now dark room. Weird. I don't even remember falling asleep. I sat up and stretched. I felt something against my leg and looked at what it was. It was Alice. Her eyes glimmered in the darkness. I smiled lightly and placed her on my nightstand. I could totally go for a snack. I thought to myself. I got up and rubbed my eyes to see clearer. I padded out of my room and tried my best to go down the stairs silently. If I woke up my mom I'd be lectured for sure. She was always so strict about me getting the right amount of sleep. It was weird to me, but I like sleep so why bother complaining? When I walked into the kitchen, I nearly slipped on something liquid on the floor. I rolled my eyes. Don't tell me there was water spilled here. I squinted, trying to see what it was, and saw something big slumped up against the counter. Maybe it was a garbage bag? I saw the white phone charger with my mothers phone connected to it. I grabbed it and turned on the flash light. I screamed at what I saw. It was my father, dead with a knife sticking out from his chest. My mom rushed in and flicked on the light. "What?! What--" she gasped and stared in horror as her eyes landed on the gruesome sight. I looked down at my feet. The bottoms were covered in blood. So that's what I nearly slipped on. Hot tears started to spill out from my eyes as I stared at my bare and bloody feet. My mom snatched the phone from me and quickly dialed 911. The police came and investigated the house, keeping us out of the house to answer their questions. As my mom answered them, I stared at my bedroom window. I needed Alice. She could help me. If it weren't for those damn cops keeping me out, not wanting me to ruin any evidence there might be, I could be holding her and feeling her soft hair through my fingers. She could help me calm down. At least a little.

When the police investigated all they could, they deemed my fathers death suicide. My mom tried to protest, saying that he would never do such a thing. But the police brushed her off for they had no other leads of it being a murder. I was heartbroken. My own father's death...a mystery. I didn't believe it was suicide either. We were never that close from the start. Not like how any father and daughter should. But he was still my dad, and I loved him. Now I can never have that special bond with him. I cried as the police toke my fathers body away. Once we were free to go back inside, I ran to the bathroom and washed the blood off my feet. I cried as I did so, making my vision blurry. When I was sure my feet were clean, I went back to my bedroom and collapsed in bed. I held my Alice doll tightly in my arms, not wanting to let go. "Alice...my father is dead." I cried to her. I cried until my throat was sore and my eyes burned. Finally, I slowly came to a stop. I think I used all my tears in my lifetime all in that one day. Who knows how long he was laying there dead. Why did I have to be the one to find him? For the rest of the night I just stared at Alice. For once, she didn't give me much comfort. If it was suicide, I truly didn't know my father at all. If it was murder, the murderer could still be out there wanting to kill me and my mom too. I shivered and wrapped myself in blankets as the thoughts slithered through my mind.