Chapter Four
Phoebe slept with her doll again on Tuesday night. She promised Clawdeen that they would never have to be apart. Phoebe loved that doll, with all her heart.
When Phoebe woke up that Wednesday morning, her eyes stung. Her hair felt wet and sticky, and her head burned, like someone tried to claw her brains out. She fought to open her drooping eyelids. Everything she say was tainted a faint red.
Phoebe grew tired, and soon, she stopped fighting and let the blackness overcome her.
Phoebe's mother walked into her daughter's room. She knew Phoebe would be awake, Phoebe always was when she came in to check on her. But when she saw her daughter lying on her bed, blood dripping down her forehead in a horrific and grotesque way, she screamed. Phoebe's head snapped up, as her mother's terrible wail had woken her from her black slumber.
Phoebe began to cry. Her mother was screaming at her and she didn't know why. She didn't do anything, and her mother was yelling at her for it.
She clutched her Clawdeen doll tighter against her little six year old chest.
Her mother realized she was frightening her poor, sweet daughter. She rushed foreword and cradled little Phoebe in her arms. She didn't once wonder why Phoebe had a Clawdeen doll. In fact, she was so worried for her angelic daughter that she didn't even notice the doll the entire drive to the hospital, or when Phoebe sat in the Emergency Room chairs playing with Clawdeen as she waited for the doctor to come see her.
As Phoebe played with Clawdeen, she noticed blood on the doll's fingernails. She thought that the blood from her forehead must have dripped down and blotted on her. Oh well, she'd clean it up once they got home.
