Stalking Tragedy(Sequel to very short story; Sugarplum)

Well, here we are! Many years after posting my original essay from an essay I dug up from sixth grade. I did the usual thing people do when they look at things they had written in the past; cringe with regret. So I thought... why not?! Lets maybe try and finsih the story of Sugarplum and Samantha and see which intold secrets to tell you guys like what happened with Samantha's father, Sophia's family, Sugarplums's obsession with biting, and many many more!! 

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Nobody seems to know what it it like to live through horror. Not some stupid movie horror where the girl is being chased in skimpy clothing, shrieking her little head off and running in the wrong direction of where she should have gone in order to survive. Making stupid mistakes, like running past the door out or cornering themselves in a room or against a wall, that leave all the watchers shaking their heads and rolling their eyes at the stupid lack of instinct going on through the movie. In real life, there is real instinct. The instinct to get away, to flee as if your life depended on it.

In my case, it had.

 It had been night time, and I had just arrived in my new college dorm. 18 years old and trying to begin a new section of my life and leave behind all of the pain of the past. Just getting off the phone with Jamie, I was pondering all of my past I was trying to leave behind. No mother. No father. Always alone with everything I did. Well, almost always alone, I had Jamie. Jamie was another tragedy survivor, and had an extremely similar case to my own. Both of us had people we loved murdered, and I wittnessed all of it. My mother, my foster mother, and Jamie's boyfriend Chris, had all been killed right before my eyes. 

And I had not been able to stop any of it. I hadn't even been able to find their killer... of course that was because of the special case that was the killer. For a murderous doll was the reason behind the deaths of so many people. A killer doll that calls himself Sugarplum. I had only been thirteen at the time of his attacks, yet I can still remember every single detail of them. You see, that is what true tragedy is, never ending and always fresh, constantly being repeated over and over in your brain.  

And I couldn't seem to stop repeating all the murders. 

My mother's death. My mother and I had been in the car together driving over a bridge together to get into town when she lost control of the car and crashed into the side of the bridge. She was impaled by a broken off piece of railing lining the bridge and bled out right next to me. Little did I know at the time, there had been a little doll, comically buckled into the backseat of our car with a huge ass grin on his face. He knew what he was about to get, and he was the reasoning behind the crash of the car. It was only years after the accident that I researched enough information about the crash to find out that something had cut open the entire area surrounding the left tire, causing us to swerve across lanes and crash. It didn't take a genious to put together the pieces that Sugarplum had cut through with his sharp, broken pieces of porcelin that were teeth. That was how my mother officially died, but it was what happened to her after she died that really caused damage to me.

Chris's death. Chris's death occured directly after my mother's. Within the hour even, because I had led him right to it. Me being the unobservent child I was at thirteen, I did not recognize that there was an extreme danger just sitting there, smiling with pointed teeth in the backseat. You see, Chris was a police officer. I walked a fourth of a mile across the bridge and into town to find him, and brought him back to the site of the crash with me. The sight of my mother when we got back was extremely different than from when I had left her. She was covered in blood and had chunks missing from her body from bites that Sugarplum had inflicted. He was sitting on her lap, still smiling with now extremely bloody sharp teeth. He attacked Chris, and to make a long story short, he finsihed him off by tearing out his windpipe. Chris's famous last words were about his girlfriend, Jamie. Asking her to marry him. 

Sophie's death. Sophie was not a relative, she was more of an attempt to replace one. Since I was an orphan with no family left, I went into the system. Sophie was my foster mother. While I was living with her, I had a little room in the attic that I slept in and hardly came down from. After a few months and no sign from Sugarplum, I decided it I was done being afraid of dolls and of the outside world. So I bought myself a little girl doll. Within the same day, Sugarplum had managed to trick me into putting him in my room by breaking off his head and placing the little girl doll's head in it's place. He had taken control of the doll, even without his own head. Later in the day I figured this all out when he had recovered his own head, somehow healed himself and replaced it on his body, and attacked Sophia. I had tried to destroy him by burning his body in the fire, but with some of Sophia's last words she informed me that burning him would only destroy the outer shell, he was still alive. 

Over and over I remembered them. Their last words. Their last breaths in my arms as I watched the muscles of their face relax and their eyes lost focus on the world around them. And that damn song he always sang...

“You are my honey-bunch SUGARPLUM, pumpi-umpi-umpkinz, you’re my sweetie-pie. You’re my cuppy-cake, gum-drop, shnugam-shnugam shnort, the apple of my eye!”

Jamie and I became very close after that. She took me in and we went to Germany to live together and try and escape Sugarplum. It was a sucessful escape, and we had never heard anything from Sugarplum at all in the years we lived there. Jamie was sucessfully able to move on from the past and forget about it. She was able to be happy again, but it was too late for me. I had seen to much, was too guilty and involved in the deaths that I couldn't forget. After a year of mourning and feeling sorry for myself, I decided to do something with my obsession with Sugarplum and the supernatural. I began to research and learn everything I could in my free time. I studied the cases of Chris, Sophia, and my mother, even tho Jamie said it would make me feel even worse I knew I had to do it. I had to do it for them and all those who died. 

I even looked into cases in the past that looked familiar to what happened to my loved ones. After looking through so many police files and articles, I began to see the signs and repeating factors in each attack. 

1) The song.

2) The bite marks. 

3) Relatives. 

The first two were an obvious given for me, I had seen them both in my own attacks, but as time went on I had discovered that often times, Sugarplum or things like him would attack many different people in one family. Maybe it was just because they were usually all in one place at one time, or maybe it was something more. There was no way for me to be sure, which was why I decided to go back to America. I needed to further my education, get more opportunities to information and resources. I needed to be closer to where the attacks actually happened and try and see what else I could dig up. 

So that brings me to sitting on my bed, unpacking my clothes and decorations for my dorm room in my new college. I was just setting my phone down after hanging up with Jamie when I heard it. The first sign. 

“You are my honey-bunch SUGARPLUM, pumpi-umpi-umpkinz, you’re my sweetie-pie. You’re my cuppy-cake, gum-drop, shnugam-shnugam shnort, the apple of my eye!”

I screamed as I wheeled around to face the window across from my bed. All I could make out was a simple silouette, but I could see the light from my room glint off his teeth as he sneered/smiled at me with them. 

They were dripping red. 

And I ran.