The Doll Labyrinth
By Skye
Chapter One
I woke up gasping. I had a terrible dream. My sister has these creepy Victorian dolls. Dolls… they had attacked me! They were chasing me through a maze. This one doll, an especially old and cracked porcelain one, named Margaret, was reaching out. Grabbing for my neck.
Thank goodness it was only a dream! I got ready for school, the usual things. But I kept thinking about my dream, those cracked porcelain fingers wrapping themselves around my neck. I shuddered, just thinking about it.
My name is Lea. I have a little sister named Vicky. She collects creepy dolls; porcelain, glass, plastic, but mostly porcelain. Personally, if I had those kinds of old dolls, when I got older, I would sell them for a lot of money. But not Vicky! If anyone even touches or bumps one of her “precious” dolls, she turns into a monster. I mean it!
I was choking. Suffocating. The doll was gripping my throat with the strength of a human. How is this happening? I thought. A doll can’t come alive, can it? The dolls were moaning, groaning, like zombies. They were staggering forward. Some of them were repeating “Mama. Mama.” Others were rambling words I didn’t understand. But never mind that; they were catching up to me! Margaret was grasping my neck even tighter, and holding on while I was running! The pain was unbearable.
Sorry! That was another flashback of my dream. I’ve noticed that I’ve been having this kind of dream for a few days, now. Where I’ve been stuck in a maze, or labyrinth, and trying to escape. Then I get attacked by dolls and I always wake up so I don’t know what happens to me in the end.
Chapter Two
When I was getting ready for school, I noticed something on the mirror in the bathroom. It was little when I first glanced at it, but then it expanded on the mirror. It was redish maroonish and dripping down onto the counter. I’m pretty sure that it was written in blood. When it was finally done growing, I read the message:
Bethany, we know you’ve seen us. Yes, it’s us, the dolls. Your sister’s dolls! Have you liked your dreams this past week? We didn’t think so! Ha! We have been making your dreams into nightmares! And yes, one day soon, we will come for you. So our advice; watch your back.
Yeah, pretty creepy right? After I was done reading it, the message shrank into nothing. I’m pretty positive that dolls did NOT write that! I mean, doll can’t come alive! Can they? Probably not… I bet it was Vicky. But, I didn’t tell anyone about my dream. No one in this house knows about my doll dreams except me. And I did not write that! So I just shrugged it off and continued with my school morning jobs.
After a quick breakfast of a toasted poptart and a handful of blueberries, I rushed out the door. My mom goes to work early in the morning because she is a teacher, and my dad is in the military, so he’s away for a while. So me and my sister don’t get a ride to school. We don’t take the bus either, we walk to school.
Personally, I think walking is relaxing. Plus, it gives you time to think. Which, is usually a good thing, but not when all you can think about is a bloody message appearing and disappearing on your bathroom mirror, not to mention recurring nightmares.
Chapter Three
Vicky had gotten up before me and eaten oatmeal with a bunch of toppings. It smelled really good, but I wanted to eat really fast and get ready so I could get to school early. Vicky was still in the kitchen, when I left for school.
I wanted to get to school early so I could finish my homework that I didn’t get done last night. All of a sudden, Vicky burst out of the house. She was carrying a really big box. It was so heavy, she could barely lift it.
“What the heck is in that thing?” I shouted at her.
“Um, mom said that I could bring something to school because it’s my turn for show and tell,” Vicky stuck out her lower lip.
“Something?” I snorted. “Looks like a lot of things!”
“It’s my doll collection, Bethany. Didn’t you hear me last night at dinner when I said that I was bringing them for show and tell today?” she asked.
“Uh, not really,” I admitted with a smile.
“Fine,” Vicky pouted. “You hold them.”
“Ugh!” I almost doubled over at the weight of them. “is this your WHOLE doll collection?”
“No. Only the porcelain ones. I think my friends will think my dolls are cool. Because the dolls are old!” Vicky waved her hands in the air.
“Oooh. I get it, Vicky. You think you’ll turn into some SUPER popular person after you bring in your OLD and cobwebby dolls to school?” I smirked.
“They are NOT cobwebby!” Vicky wrinkled her nose. “Besides, you’re just jealous that I have more friends than YOU!” she exclaimed.
“Like I’D be jealous of YOU,” I snorted for the second time.
“I bet you are!” Vicky argued.
“Whatever! I’m NOT carrying YOUR stupid dolls to school!” I decided. “Either YOU carry them, or they’re staying home!” and with that, I dropped the box on Vicky’s foot, and walked away from her.
“Ooowww! Owww! Ooooo!” Vicky howled like a wolf. “That hurt! You’ll pay for that, Bethany!” she hollered at me.
“Pft!” I snickered. Like I’d pay for THAT! Yeah, right! “In your dreams, sista!” I flipped my hair for added drama effect.
Little did I know, that was only the beginning!
Chapter Four
I started jogging, shifting my backpack to one shoulder to the other after a while. It was getting heavy. Maybe heavy with the contents of my backpack, or maybe heavy with guilt. I shouldn’t have dropped Vicky’s box of dolls on her foot. I thought.
I decided to turn back. To help Vicky carry her dolls to school. I ran toward my house, I hoped Vicky was still there, even if she was pouting. “Vicky! Vicky!” I called, hoping she could hear me.
When I got to to my house, I skidded to a stop. “Vicky?” where was she? Vicky had just disappeared. I tried calling to her again. No answer. Maybe she had gone the back route to school.
I sprinted past my house, this time, in the opposite direction. Sure enough, there were little muddy footprints going that way. But there was no mud. Plus, the footprints looked too little to be Vicky’s.
I mean, sure she’s small for her age and all, but her feet aren’t that small. The mud caked tracks leading away from my house looked too small to even be human! Maybe a dolls’ prints. I thought, and shuddered.
Not dolls again! Why couldn’t I stop thinking about dolls? Dolls do NOT come alive! So they could NOT be from a doll! I slapped myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about my dream; dolls!
Margaret was going to kill me! She was going to clench her tiny, cracked, mud covered fist around my neck until I die! I realized.
Another flashback of my dream, sorry. “Wait!” I thought, out loud. “Mud covered! In my dream, Margaret’s hand was covered in mud! So were all the other dolls! These footprints ARE from dolls!” I decided that I was going to follow the tracks.
Chapter Five
“Hee! Hee! Hee! Hee! Hahahahaha! Hee! Hee!” I heard some evil laughter. Dolls, I guessed. “I’m coming, you, you, you freakishly UGLY… um… things!” Then more evil cackling. “DOLLS! I am SICK of DOLLS!” I screamed to the air.
Then, a little figure caked with mud ran in front of me; a doll! “Augh!” I roared and grabbed at it. “Hee! Hee!” the doll laughed, with an evil glint in her eye. “My name is Veronica. What’s your name?” she asked. “You. Are. Dead!” I whacked the doll, then leaped back, in pain. Veronica was made of wood, with cloth and satin clothes. “Ow!”
“Oh, by the way,” Veronica started. “I am already dead.” and with that, the doll vaulted over a nearby fence of a neighbor’s yard.
“Ooo kaaay. That was just WEIRD!” I exclaimed, to no one in particular. How can a doll be dead? Or even alive in the first place?
“Vicky! Vicky!” I yelled to my sister. She appeared to be smaller than usual. Maybe she was bending down, trying to pick up the doll filled box. That thought made me snicker.
It was heavy for me to pick up, much less a seven year old! Mainly, my sister. “Vicky?” Why wouldn’t she answer me.
I woke up gasping. I had a terrible dream. My sister has these creepy Victorian dolls. Dolls… they had attacked me! They were chasing me through a maze. This one doll, an especially old and cracked porcelain one, named Margaret, was reaching out. Grabbing for my neck.
Thank goodness it was only a dream! I got ready for school, the usual things. But I kept thinking about my dream, those cracked porcelain fingers wrapping themselves around my neck. I shuddered, just thinking about it.
My name is Lea. I have a little sister named Vicky. She collects creepy dolls; porcelain, glass, plastic, but mostly porcelain. Personally, if I had those kinds of old dolls, when I got older, I would sell them for a lot of money. But not Vicky! If anyone even touches or bumps one of her “precious” dolls, she turns into a monster. I mean it!
I was choking. Suffocating. The doll was gripping my throat with the strength of a human. How is this happening? I thought. A doll can’t come alive, can it? The dolls were moaning, groaning, like zombies. They were staggering forward. Some of them were repeating “Mama. Mama.” Others were rambling words I didn’t understand. But never mind that; they were catching up to me! Margaret was grasping my neck even tighter, and holding on while I was running! The pain was unbearable.
Sorry! That was another flashback of my dream. I’ve noticed that I’ve been having this kind of dream for a few days, now. Where I’ve been stuck in a maze, or labyrinth, and trying to escape. Then I get attacked by dolls and I always wake up so I don’t know what happens to me in the end.
Chapter Two
When I was getting ready for school, I noticed something on the mirror in the bathroom. It was little when I first glanced at it, but then it expanded on the mirror. It was redish maroonish and dripping down onto the counter. I’m pretty sure that it was written in blood. When it was finally done growing, I read the message:
Bethany, we know you’ve seen us. Yes, it’s us, the dolls. Your sister’s dolls! Have you liked your dreams this past week? We didn’t think so! Ha! We have been making your dreams into nightmares! And yes, one day soon, we will come for you. So our advice; watch your back.
Yeah, pretty creepy right? After I was done reading it, the message shrank into nothing. I’m pretty positive that dolls did NOT write that! I mean, doll can’t come alive! Can they? Probably not… I bet it was Vicky. But, I didn’t tell anyone about my dream. No one in this house knows about my doll dreams except me. And I did not write that! So I just shrugged it off and continued with my school morning jobs.
After a quick breakfast of a toasted poptart and a handful of blueberries, I rushed out the door. My mom goes to work early in the morning because she is a teacher, and my dad is in the military, so he’s away for a while. So me and my sister don’t get a ride to school. We don’t take the bus either, we walk to school.
Personally, I think walking is relaxing. Plus, it gives you time to think. Which, is usually a good thing, but not when all you can think about is a bloody message appearing and disappearing on your bathroom mirror, not to mention recurring nightmares.
Chapter Three
Vicky had gotten up before me and eaten oatmeal with a bunch of toppings. It smelled really good, but I wanted to eat really fast and get ready so I could get to school early. Vicky was still in the kitchen, when I left for school.
I wanted to get to school early so I could finish my homework that I didn’t get done last night. All of a sudden, Vicky burst out of the house. She was carrying a really big box. It was so heavy, she could barely lift it.
“What the heck is in that thing?” I shouted at her.
“Um, mom said that I could bring something to school because it’s my turn for show and tell,” Vicky stuck out her lower lip.
“Something?” I snorted. “Looks like a lot of things!”
“It’s my doll collection, Bethany. Didn’t you hear me last night at dinner when I said that I was bringing them for show and tell today?” she asked.
“Uh, not really,” I admitted with a smile.
“Fine,” Vicky pouted. “You hold them.”
“Ugh!” I almost doubled over at the weight of them. “is this your WHOLE doll collection?”
“No. Only the porcelain ones. I think my friends will think my dolls are cool. Because the dolls are old!” Vicky waved her hands in the air.
“Oooh. I get it, Vicky. You think you’ll turn into some SUPER popular person after you bring in your OLD and cobwebby dolls to school?” I smirked.
“They are NOT cobwebby!” Vicky wrinkled her nose. “Besides, you’re just jealous that I have more friends than YOU!” she exclaimed.
“Like I’D be jealous of YOU,” I snorted for the second time.
“I bet you are!” Vicky argued.
“Whatever! I’m NOT carrying YOUR stupid dolls to school!” I decided. “Either YOU carry them, or they’re staying home!” and with that, I dropped the box on Vicky’s foot, and walked away from her.
“Ooowww! Owww! Ooooo!” Vicky howled like a wolf. “That hurt! You’ll pay for that, Bethany!” she hollered at me.
“Pft!” I snickered. Like I’d pay for THAT! Yeah, right! “In your dreams, sista!” I flipped my hair for added drama effect.
Little did I know, that was only the beginning!
Chapter Four
I started jogging, shifting my backpack to one shoulder to the other after a while. It was getting heavy. Maybe heavy with the contents of my backpack, or maybe heavy with guilt. I shouldn’t have dropped Vicky’s box of dolls on her foot. I thought.
I decided to turn back. To help Vicky carry her dolls to school. I ran toward my house, I hoped Vicky was still there, even if she was pouting. “Vicky! Vicky!” I called, hoping she could hear me.
When I got to to my house, I skidded to a stop. “Vicky?” where was she? Vicky had just disappeared. I tried calling to her again. No answer. Maybe she had gone the back route to school.
I sprinted past my house, this time, in the opposite direction. Sure enough, there were little muddy footprints going that way. But there was no mud. Plus, the footprints looked too little to be Vicky’s.
I mean, sure she’s small for her age and all, but her feet aren’t that small. The mud caked tracks leading away from my house looked too small to even be human! Maybe a dolls’ prints. I thought, and shuddered.
Not dolls again! Why couldn’t I stop thinking about dolls? Dolls do NOT come alive! So they could NOT be from a doll! I slapped myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about my dream; dolls!
Margaret was going to kill me! She was going to clench her tiny, cracked, mud covered fist around my neck until I die! I realized.
Another flashback of my dream, sorry. “Wait!” I thought, out loud. “Mud covered! In my dream, Margaret’s hand was covered in mud! So were all the other dolls! These footprints ARE from dolls!” I decided that I was going to follow the tracks.
Chapter Five
“Hee! Hee! Hee! Hee! Hahahahaha! Hee! Hee!” I heard some evil laughter. Dolls, I guessed. “I’m coming, you, you, you freakishly UGLY… um… things!” Then more evil cackling. “DOLLS! I am SICK of DOLLS!” I screamed to the air.
Then, a little figure caked with mud ran in front of me; a doll! “Augh!” I roared and grabbed at it. “Hee! Hee!” the doll laughed, with an evil glint in her eye. “My name is Veronica. What’s your name?” she asked. “You. Are. Dead!” I whacked the doll, then leaped back, in pain. Veronica was made of wood, with cloth and satin clothes. “Ow!”
“Oh, by the way,” Veronica started. “I am already dead.” and with that, the doll vaulted over a nearby fence of a neighbor’s yard.
“Ooo kaaay. That was just WEIRD!” I exclaimed, to no one in particular. How can a doll be dead? Or even alive in the first place?
“Vicky! Vicky!” I yelled to my sister. She appeared to be smaller than usual. Maybe she was bending down, trying to pick up the doll filled box. That thought made me snicker.
It was heavy for me to pick up, much less a seven year old! Mainly, my sister. “Vicky?” Why wouldn’t she answer me.