For being around to comment on almost every other chapter.
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“The garage,” said Anaesthesia, “Is the other way.”
“I know.” I muttered. It was half past six in the evening. There was cool breeze coming in from the sea, it blew some of my hair back, lightly brushing past my jacket. The soles of my sneakers met the course sand with crunching noises. I’ve always liked how deserted it often was. The water looked dirty and the shoreline had jagged rocks. It wasn’t the best place to swim or get a sun-tan at.
“Tony? The garage?” Anaestheisa said. Her voice sounded like it was far away somewhere, like the tiny little boat far out at sea.
“Hmm, later.”
I sat down at the edge of a large rock, partly eroded away by the harsh waves.
The light breeze picked up as the sun began it descent into the water. What if I found something in the garage? What would it mean for my Uncle? More importantly did I want to find out?
I could just leave Anaesthesia there and never look back. She wouldn’t be able to move. Life would go on as it always had. But what if I get turned into a toy? Besides, leaving her there would be really cruel.
“Tony? The sun’s setting. Going to an old and dusty garage at night isn’t a good idea.”
“Hmm..? I have a flashlight.”
No, my Uncle wouldn’t do cruel things like trapping people in dolls for years and years like that. Richard Dawson was the one behind all of it, for sure. I mean, he tried to strangle Selene’s pet hamster before. (I stepped on his foot really hard, so he let it go) There was this strange crazy look in his eyes when he was doing it. He had hastily left the house that day and had never gone near the poor thing ever again.
Yeah, it’s probably him.
I got up and started walking towards the garage.
After trying a few keys, the partly rusted lock on the door finally opened. I turned the doorknob but, the door didn’t budge. I pushed hard against it a few times and the door finally opened. The door frame looks really shaky.
I hesitated for a moment before stepping in.
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Toyinfestation
Humor"Ofcourse one believes a very frustrated six year old about a talking headless Barbie doll. All I got was an earful about how bad a brother I was and the next day I didn't get any fudge for breakfast. Because I was SUCH a bad boy, making excuses to...
