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Tragic Doll

Tragic Doll

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jun 16, 2019
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Fiction
Mystery
A man took me upstairs, placed me on a bookcase, his sharp eyes looked at me repeatedly, then left me alone, this gave me a sudden sense of danger. Soon after, a woman wearing a white lingerie ran past me, towards the balcony. Two people from the room behind me darted towards her screaming, but the woman climbed straight over the guardrail, jumped straight down. People call me the tragic doll, suggest that I will bring bad luck to whoever owns me. this is the first thing I see in this household.
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'Idiot.' 'Douche bag.' 'Dumbass.' 'Jer---' 'WILL YOU STOP HOVERING!' His grating voice snapped me out of my rant. I glanced behind me, looking for the unfortunate person the idiot was yelling at. There was no one else in the room. I closed my eyes and rubbed them furiously. There was still no one else in the room. My eyes widened slightly as I looked at him, realization dawning on me. 'You can see me!' I gasped. It wasn't a question. It was statement of disbelief but that didn't stop the idiot from replying. 'No, I'm talking to the other stalker ghost behind you.' He muttered sarcastically. 'You can see me!' I screamed in amazement, too distracted to realize he insulted me. 'Sweet heavens! He can see me!' 'I think we've already established that baby doll.' He rolled his eyes. His condescending tone coupled with the patronizing look that had "you are crazy" written all over it was enough to snap me out of the temporary state of euphoria. __________________ Four little words. Very simple words that changed my existence and gave me hope for the first time in over two hundred years. Someone could see me. He could see me! Now I just have to figure out a way to convince the biggest jerk I know to help me lift a two hundred year old curse. Piece of cake.

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