The Dolls (ON HOLD)

The Dolls

I know what my owner does in the basement. No I'm not a piece of property or anything it's just that he's not my father, I don't know who he is to me. He never told me how or where he found me or what I am to him. 

I just knew he did bad things in the basement; our house was large so the basement was three floors below my room. The screams were so loud and terrifying; even if I was all the way on top of the building I would be able to hear it. I don't think my owner knows I can here, he would tell me the basement is "soundproof." 

It's not.

I don't know exactly what goes on the basement; he won't let me down there. I know it's bad, so bad the house never feels safe, or when my owner goes out I could hear high heels click outside my room, but whenever I open my door to see if anyone is in the hallway, nothing is there, just the same doll that sits in the hallway.

I always walk up to the doll and ask it if it knew what was going on, as a joke. That doll looked nothing like the dolls I would see while I passed the toy store This doll looked real, it looked like a real person. It was up to my shoulders, which was unusual for it to be so large. I always brushed it off, until one night I wished I noticed everything before.

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Well I have a secret love for horror and this fan fiction stuff didn't suit me. This is my new horror story, I hope everyone likes it. 

~Talia.