The Girl and the Doll is a creepy story about a teenager who notices a strange little girl and a doll that has matching clothes.
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.
It 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 a 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.
Every day, on my way home from school, I saw the little 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 and she was very inquisitive. She was one of these old women 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 that 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.
A few days later, there was a knock on our front door. When I answered it, a young woman was standing there. She was the mother of the little girl with the doll.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m your neighbor and I’d like to ask you for a favor.”
“Sure,” I replied. “What is it?”
“Something unexpectedly came up,” she said. “I have to go on an errand and my husband doesn’t get home from work until later. I’ll only be gone for a few hours, but I need someone to look after my daughter while I’m away. I know it’s short notice, but would you take care of her?”
“Of course,” I said. “What’s your daughter’s name?”
“Lisa,” the mother replied. “We need to leave now, so if you don’t mind…”
I followed the woman to her house and I waited while she rushed upstairs. When she returned, she was leading the little girl by the hand. As soon as I saw her, I was taken aback. There was something wrong with her.
Her eyes were completely black, like the eyes of a shark and she was still clutching that wretched doll in her arms. I don’t know what it was about the dool that creeped me out so much. Perhaps it was because it looked so much like the little girl that it was disturbing and uncanny.
Before I had a chance to back out, the mother said her goodbyes, then got into the car and drove away. Without a word, little Lisa reached up and took me by the hand. Her skin was ice-cold to the touch and it sent a shiver down my spine.
“Play with me,” she said.
We went upstairs to her bedroom, but as soon as I closed the door, I began to feel uneasy. I could detect a strange and unpleasant smell in the room, but I couldn’t figure out what it was or where it was coming from.
I played with Lisa for about 30 minutes, but then I began to feel a tightness in my chest. I broke out into a cold sweat and my stomach was churning. I felt like I was going to vomit.
“I have to go,” I gasped.
All of a sudden, Lisa scrambled to her feet and cried out, “No! You are going to stay with me forever! And we’ll play all the time!”
She stared at me with those cold, black eyes and I felt like I was going to faint. I was frightened and wanted to get out of the room, but when I tried to open the door, the handle wouldn’t turn. I began rattling it and pulling on it, but it was no use. I ran to the window amd tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t open it.
Then I remembered the warning of the old woman and cursed myself for not listening to her. I was trembling with fear, but I decided to recite a prayer.
“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”
As soon as I uttered those words, the little girl let out an ear-splitting screech. She screamed so loud that I thought I would go deaf and I had to clasp my hands over my ears, but I never stopped reciting that prayer.
“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven…”
The girl dropped the doll and it fell to the floor. All of a sudden, it came to life and came at me, gnashing its teeth and scratching with its clawed hands like a feral animal. I tried to kick it away, but it jumped at my neck and tried to tear my thoat out.
I fell backwards on the bed, desperately trying to fight the doll off. It was a terrible struggle. The doll was thrashing back and forth, scraping me and tearing at my clothes. Every time it got its hands around my neck, it started to throttle me.
Eventually, I got the upper hand. I grabbed it by the legs and swung it with all my might, smashing its head against the wall. It hit the wall so hard that it left a dent in the plaster. A crack split the doll’s face in two and thick black smoke began pouring out.
“Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…”
The doll lay on the floor, shaking and wriggling, flopping back and forth like a dying fish. The doll’s head split wider and the smoke billowing out of it grew thicker and thicker.
“And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen!”
When I finished reciting the prayer, Lisa was lying in the middle of the room, unconscious and the doll was little more than a steaming pile of molten plastic, hissing and bubbling on the carpet.
Just then, Lisa’s mother came home. She ran up the stairs and burst into the room, demanding to know what had happened. I tried to explain, but I couldn’t get the words out. I threw up all over the floor.
When Lisa regained consciousness, she said that she remembered nothing, nothing at all. I looked at her eyes. The blackness was gone and now they were a bright, vibrant shade of blue.
Three years later, when she was only 9 years old, Lisa died suddenly. She drank an entire bottle of bleach and it corroded her insides. She died in tremendous pain, screaming and crying in agony as her organs slowly broke down and dissolved. The doctors ruled it an accident, but everybody suspected she had taken her own life. Her parents were devastated. Nobody could explain why a girl so young would do such a thing.
A week after the funeral, her mother and father moved out of the house. It held too many bad memories. As they were going through Lisa’s bedroom and packing up her belongings, they found something glued to the back of her mirror. It was a photo of Lisa and the doll.
On the other side, written in a childish scrawl, was a message: “She has returned to us, for those who answer our call will be damned forever!”