His soft blonde hair seemed to frame his tanned face, once the face of a much loved angel now a face covering a dark secret...
I jerk my pillow over my head hoping this time I won't hear the scratching or the taunting whispers. Then it starts and somehow manages to gorge it's way into my fragile human ears.
I can't take it I yank my quilt off, get up and take four strides to the old oak door.
I cautiously open the door and sure enough that porcelain doll is sat there glaring at me. Ever since my grandma gave me that doll 'Vanessa' things have been different. From the scratching on the door to the taunting word whispered in my ear 'Nicholas'.
The next morning I get up, get dressed ready to go to my new school Richmondale High. I walk as it isn't far from where my new house is.
I'm walking down the glass corridor when all of a sudden a vivid image of Vanessa appears, sending sharp needles of pain into my head. I scream in agony and collapse but don't hit the ground. Suddenly, i'm conscience of two strong arms securely gripping me.
I open my eyes and see a boy about my age ( fifteen) with short blonde hair staring down at me calmly.
"I'm so sorry!" I stutter.
"It's Okay" He replies grinning, "I'm Nick by the way and you are?"
"Elizabeth." I smile.
"Okay, well Liz let's get you off the ground." He picks me up and puts a supportive arm around me. "Are you okay?" He asks concerned.
"Yeah i'll be fine." I reply
"Where do you live?" He questions me.
"Literally right around the corner." I say.
"Well, I will walk you there." He says, grabbing my hand.
We walk to my house whilst chatting but when i point out which house is mine he freezes. "I used to live here, i know why you fell in the hallway." He says staring at me.
"You do?" I ask
"You saw her didn't you? You saw Vanessa!" He says as his eyes widen.
"How do you know about Vanessa? My grandmother gave her to me." I say confused.
"They told you that!" He laughs. "That doll has been there for centuries no one knows who put it there, why it's there and why it won't leave."
"Well, the doll does scratch my door and whisper in my ear." I say shivering . His eyes widen with fear. "Liz you have got to get out of that house, after the scratching the doll kills you..." He says looking at me.
"How do you know?" I ask puzzled.
He takes a deep breath. "Because that doll killed me..."
He reaches out and crushes my windpipe, taking the air out of my lungs. I die looking up at him. I die quickly.
When I wake up I am scratching the old oak door...
YOU ARE READING
The Doll... =COMPLETED=
TerrorThis story is about a girl called Elizabeth who starts to experience 'strange ' occurrences in her house. From the whispers in her ears to the scratch marks on her door, she knows something is not quite right. That's when the Doll her grandma suppos...
