I want to tell you a story about a girl and a doll. I know what you're thinking: you've heard this story before. A little girl wants a doll, someone buys it for her and then the doll goes mental and kills everyone. Well, you're wrong, this is a different kind of story.
I am Tara by the way, Tara Raichand and this happened back in 2009 when I was 16 years old. One day, as I was walking home from school, I noticed that a new family had moved into the house at the end of my street. They were a young married couple, and they had a little daughter who looked like she was around 6 years old.
She wore white dress, white socks and black shoes, her hair was long and black and she was holding a doll in her arms. The doll had a white dress and long black hair as well. In fact, it looked almost exactly like a miniature version of the girl.
Everyday from my way home from school, I saw the girl, she was always sitting there outside her house, cradling the doll in her arms and watching me as I passed by. There was something about the way she stared at me and the cold, dark look in her eyes that really unnerved me.
At night, I couldn't sleep. I was plagued by very strange dreams and woke up in a cold sweat. I could only vaguely remember the dreams, but they all involved the girl with the doll. This went on night after night and the lack of sleep left me exhausted.
There was an old lady who lived next door who knows everything about everyone. She was always eavesdropping and sticking her nose into other people's business. One day, as I was walking to school, she grabbed me by the arm and, in hushed tones, she said she had something to tell me.
She wanted to talk about the family who moved into the house at the end of the street. 'You don't want to mess with them,' she told me. 'They're not good people. I've heard that they're always on the move and never stay anywhere for long. And that daughter of theirs... Did you know that she's adopted? She's not right in the head either. I've heard rumors that she's the offspring of the devil and the doll she carries around is not a doll at all, but a demon made in her image...'
I just rolled my eyes and walked away, dismissing it as the idle gossip of a crazy old woman. But oh, how silly I was. How I wish I had listened to the warnings of that crazy old woman.
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