It was midnight i heard faint crying, downstairs that sounded recorded.With shaking hands, I walked down the creaky stairs. A doll, with blood-shoot eyes and green and white splotchy skin. It’s teeth were sharpened, with blood dripping down the tips. It’s hair was matted with grass and dirt, stuck in clumps. She pet our late dog, Budreau. She was wearing a neckless that read “Lucy”, rocking slowly back an forth, back an forth. I let out a shrill scream. Before it’s sound waves would’ve reached my parents bedroom, Lucy, the doll, flew from her chair to use her tiny pointer finger to shoosh me. Knowing me, I would have passed out. But I didn’t. The color drained burning log from the fire place, then aimed it for my heart. She let go and I prepared myself for death. Then I woke up.