Play Nice

Saturday

3:59 am.1 minute until 4.Lucy stared at the digital clock on the bedside table. She had moved the doll to the wardrobe after it had started freaking Fletcher out. She had found it funny but now, she didn't. She was freaking out. She was scared as soon as she closed her eyes it would jump out of the wardrobe, crawl over to her and murder her. At this thought she laughed to herself. What a childish thought. It was a doll for goodness sake. 4:00 am. Sleep. She needed it. Her eyes burned with tiredness. Fletcher held her hand,
"Go ta sleep, love."She held his hand tighter and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

She jolted awake 8:26 the next morning and went to reach for Fletcher's hand. It wasn't there. She jumped up and turned to look at the pillow where Fletcher's brown, curly head should have been but wasn't.
"Fletch?" She got out of bed and tied up her long sandy blonde hair in a messy ponytail. She waddled towards the door and pulled on the handle. It was very stiff today. Either that she was weaker than normal.She continued on through the wooden hallway towards the bathroom straight ahead.

She knocked on the white painted door.
"Fletch? Fletch, 'oney are ya in there?" She heard a quiet grunt in response.
"I'm coming in then..." She turned the handle and slowly pushed open the door, scared of what she would find. Her husband dead on the floor? Stabbed through the heart? A ghost? But her husband no where to be seen? She squeezed her eyes shut and felt tears. Then opened them and... Fletcher was sitting on the edge of the bath, his leg covered in blood. It was dropping down all the way to his feet where a puddle of dark crimson lay, staining the marble floor. Fletcher's blue eyes were dulled with pain and tears that zigzagged their way down his face.
"Luce it's not, really its not wha-"But Lucy was already screaming her head off.
" Fletcher!! What have ya done?! What is this? Why have ya-"And she broke down into tears as she ran forwards to help Fletcher.She grabbed tissue after tissue but it still needed to be bandaged.
" I'll be back en a second, 'kay? "She ran out the room,blood stains stinging her fingers as she ran towards the living room where in a draw underneath the TV was a first aid box. She picked it up but stopped, the box half out of the draw. The hairs on the back of her neck had stood up as if struck by lightning.
"He-llo, there...an-d what is it that you are do-ing?" A sweet cold voice. Like ice during a beautiful winter. Like a wasp during the summer sun.

Lucy closed her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to turn around. She couldn't. It was there she felt it. Sitting there, it's dress displayed out before her, her eyes, unblinking. But she had to. She had to turn around. She had to face her fears. She slowly opened her eyes...
"Boo..."

Lucy screamed and backed away, hugging the first aid box tight.The doll, where was it?It was behind her,in front of her and now it was no where. Lucy hated it. She'd rather stare at the eyes of that doll than not see it at all.
"Well tha-t's cute...I fe-el hon-oured." Lucy jumped up and made for the door. Until a sqeak ran out through the room.Goosebumps flew up her arms. Her hands shakily holding the box,its handle rattling... and rattling. She heard the slow muffled sound of her bare feet scraping the floor as she slowly turned.
"It is li-ke a rock-ing hors-ie..." The doll was sitting on the rocking chair as it swayed. Forwards. Backwards. Forwards. Backwards. It's head tilted to the left.
"Will yo-u not let me st-ay?Yo-u need to pl-ay nice..."The doll's head straightened. And stopped.

Lucy stood in the same place, frozen,clutching the box as if it was a precious teddy. Her blue eyes lingered over the doll's hazel ones. Lucy ran backwards to find Fletcher, still sitting on the edge of the bath,staring at his bloody leg  and acting as if nothing had ever happened.
"Where've ya been?"All Lucy could do was point at the living room door and gasp for breath.
"The doll... the doll... Its... Its ali-alive. Its... t-t-t-talkin' ta me." Fletcher stared at Lucy with a look of horror and rage.
"This... this was 'er, wa' nt it?It was 'er who did this.That doll ain't goin' ta our daughter, Luce."
"No. No it's not..."