Why is it always us? ON HOLD

The Doll

Katy's Pov:

I've always hated that doll. It's sickening how real and cartoonish it looks at the same time. I've had it for a while now, I got it on my fourth birthday party from aunt Shelly. At first, it was OK, I liked the doll because she is kinda pretty. Short, dark brown hair and glassy hazel eyes. She wears a petticoat over a yellow and spotty dress and has pink pointy shoes. She wasn't my favourite toy, but I liked her.

By the time I was seven, I was starting to dislike her for some reason. I don't know why, she just...gave me huge bad vibes. I kept it in my bedroom, you see, and at the right side of where my bed is, I have a shelf where I keep some toys and shit that don't fit in the toy bag and everytime I wake up in the middle of the night, I feel her eyes on me.

I tried ignoring this, but as a very self conscious child, I couldn't, not for long anyway. I could ask both of my dads to get rid of it but when I tried (which I did many times) my words got twisted and the subject would slip out of my reach. The first time this happened, I was really annoyed with myself and the doll. I named her Rosalee. Only because she had reddish hair like me but a darker shade and freckles. She looked like a Rosalee anyway. That night, I got pissed off with the feeling I got from her. I knew it wasn't real and I was just imagining it but I couldn't help myself.

I shuffled over to the shelf, picked the doll up without thinking twice about it and carried it out of my room. This is something I would do often with toys I didn't want in my room, carry them somewhere else in the household for the night. I carried Rosalee to the basement, where I knew I couldn't feel her intent stare.
I opened the door, went the down the stairs and left her on one of our old armchairs that was abandoned down there. I casted her a second glance before stomping up again and going into my room.

I slept well that night, I recall that, because I didn't worry about Rosalee anymore. But the next morning, I woke up and...there she was.

On the shelf, the exact same spot I always place her on. Not an inch to the left or right, glaring into the same direction as always. Well fuck it. I was panicking by then which was absurd and I told myself that. One of my dads could have found it and returned it to my room which would be the reasonable explanation and that is what I chose to believe in.

Still, I tried distancing myself from her. I'd believed that nothing bad happened but at the same time I didn't and it was killing me on the inside. From then on, I hid the doll everywhere I could, under the bed, in one of the kitchen drawers, on the couch, even outside in the backyard.

Didn't make a difference.

She always cane back.

"You look tired and pissed." Gray commented, eyeing me weirdly and I rolled my eyes, though I was aware of the circles under my eyes.

"Yeah, we'll. I don't get much sleep lately." I replied defiantly and Brody's head perked up.

"Why?"

I hesitated. I couldn't tell them, for many reasons. One of them being it would seem as an overexaggeration and they would make fun of me for being a cry baby. Besides, I got no way of proving my point.

"Doesn't matter." I delayed and whistled, desperately hoping for someone to change the subject.

Penny peered at me, with a strange sparkle of knowledge in her eyes "Is it that doll again?"

I holed back in surprise and heard a groan from behind me. Carter was folding his arms, irritated "That doll freaks me out. Sorry ginger, I hate it."

"To be honest, me too." I confessed and shuddered at the thought of it.

Tyler popped out from behind them all and gazed at me with a quizzical stare "Why? Is it haunted or something?" He had meant it as a joke but I shrugged my shoulders and Kelsey rose an eyebrow.