The Doll

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THE DOLL

Once there was a girl about seven years old. She lived with her parents in a small house which was in the middle of a deserted moor. They were somewhat poor, and got this house a few years ago for not much money. The girl’s name was Marisa, and she new every inch of the house.

One night, Marisa went to the kitchen, hugging her doll tightly, to find her parents talking very seriously. When the girl walked in, she noticed something through the window which was over the sink. Over the hill about five yards away, a man with craggy clothes and a pale face with black hair was staggering over towards the house. Marisa caught a few words in the conversation; ‘killer’ ’911′. As the parents noticed their daughter, the told her ‘Go to bed, honey. It’s nothing.’ So Marisa went to her room. But she couldn’t fall asleep. she knew that her family was in trouble, that that man wasn’t a good sign. Suddenly, a door outside her room slammed open. She heard a shriek and a loud thump. Footsteps were heading towards her room. She let out a scream, and ran over to close the door, and locked it. She went over to her closet. She had to hide. The family had a secret; in Marisa’s closet, there was a secret passage in a loose stone which led to the cellar, which would help them if they needed to hide. She heard a loud *bang bang* on the door. She pulled out the stone, and looked at her doll in the beady, deep blue eyes. She dropped her doll in first into the cellar. The door suddenly burst open. A man came in with a knife, dripping with blood. Marisa was about to get into the cellar, but before she could move, she was killed, and the stone fell back into the floor.

500 years later, another family moved in. They had a girl who was 12 years old, and she was very curious. One night, the girl, whose name was Nicole, couldn’t fall asleep. So she put her head under her covers, and closed her eyes tight. She thought it was her imagination, but she heard a faint, desperate cry… ‘help me… help me……..’ She opened her eyes. ‘help me…. help me…..’ It kept getting louder. She took the covers off. ‘help me…. help me!’ Now she knew it wasn’t her imagination. She got out of bed, and made out that it was coming from the closet. ‘help me! HELP ME!’ She walked over to the closet door, and flung it open. The noise seemed to ring in her ears like a fire alarm. A single stone in the floor was shaking violently. She picked it up, and as soon as she took it out of the floor, the voice stopped. A gust of wind came out of the hole in the floor. She looked into it, and gasped. There was a pair of eyes, blue as the sky, staring straight at her. She climbed down the ladder, and picked a doll up. Its eyes were beautiful, but it looked at least 500 years old, all dusty and the colors were faded. Suddenly a piercing scream came from the doll, and it rattled violently in her hands. She shrieked, ran upstairs, and told her parents. The family moved out almost immediately.

Today, the house in being used as a museum. It displays the doll. And, they say if you listen closely on that day Marisa died, you can hear it from the doll; ‘help me…. help me…………!’

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