The Doll

Emma loved dolls. She had a whole collection of them in her bedroom, each one with a name and a personality. She liked to dress them up, comb their hair, and have tea parties with them.

One day, her mother brought home a new doll from an antique shop. It was a porcelain doll with curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and a pink dress. It looked very old and delicate.

“Look what I found for you, sweetie,” her mother said. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Emma took the doll and examined it. She noticed that it had a tag on its neck that said “Annabelle”.

“Her name is Annabelle,” Emma said. “She’s lovely. Thank you, mommy.”

“You’re welcome, honey. I’m glad you like her. Why don’t you take her to your room and introduce her to your other dolls?”

Emma nodded and ran upstairs with Annabelle. She placed her on a shelf next to her other dolls and smiled.

“Hello, everyone,” she said. “This is Annabelle. She’s new here. Please be nice to her.”

The other dolls seemed to welcome Annabelle with friendly smiles. Emma felt happy that they got along.

She spent the rest of the afternoon playing with her dolls, making up stories and having fun. She didn’t notice anything strange about Annabelle at first.

But then, she started to notice some things that made her uneasy.

She noticed that Annabelle’s eyes seemed to follow her wherever she went in the room. She noticed that Annabelle’s expression changed from time to time, sometimes looking sad, sometimes angry, sometimes sinister. She noticed that Annabelle’s dress had stains on it that looked like blood.

She tried to ignore these things, thinking that they were just her imagination. But they kept bothering her.

She decided to ask her mother about Annabelle.

“Mommy,” she said one evening. “Where did you get Annabelle from?”

Her mother looked at her and smiled.

“I got her from an old lady who ran the antique shop,” she said. “She said that she had found Annabelle in an attic of an abandoned house. She said that Annabelle was very special and had a history.”

“A history?” Emma asked.

“Yes, a history,” her mother said. “She said that Annabelle was once owned by a little girl who died in a fire. She said that the little girl’s spirit was trapped inside the doll and that she was looking for a new friend.”

Emma felt a chill run down her spine.

“Mommy,” she said. “That’s scary.”

Her mother laughed.

“Oh, don’t be silly, honey,” she said. “That’s just a story. There’s no such thing as ghosts or spirits. Annabelle is just a doll. A very pretty doll.”

Emma nodded, but she wasn’t convinced.

She wished she had never met Annabelle.

Emma tried to avoid Annabelle as much as possible. She didn’t play with her or talk to her. She moved her to the farthest corner of the shelf, hoping that she would leave her alone.

But Annabelle didn’t leave her alone. She started to do things that scared Emma even more.

She started to move around the room when Emma wasn’t looking. She would appear in different places, sometimes on the bed, sometimes on the desk, sometimes on the floor. She would leave messages for Emma on the walls, written in blood. She would whisper things in Emma’s ear at night, things like “I want to be your friend” and “You can’t get rid of me”.

Emma told her mother about Annabelle, but she didn’t believe her. She thought that Emma was just having nightmares or playing pranks.

“Emma, stop making up stories,” she said. “Annabelle is just a doll. A very pretty doll. You should be nice to her.”

Emma felt helpless and alone. She wished she had never met Annabelle.

One night, Emma woke up to a loud noise. She saw that Annabelle had fallen off the shelf and broken into pieces on the floor. She felt a surge of relief and joy.

She got out of bed and ran towards the broken doll, hoping to throw it away.

But as she reached for it, she felt a sharp pain in her hand. She looked down and saw that Annabelle had bitten her with her porcelain teeth. She saw blood dripping from her wound.

She screamed and tried to pull away, but Annabelle held on tight. She felt Annabelle’s cold arms wrap around her body, squeezing her hard.

She heard Annabelle’s voice in her ear, saying “You can’t get rid of me. I’m your friend. I’m your only friend.”

Emma felt a wave of terror wash over her. She realized that Annabelle was not just a doll.

She was a monster.