Blood dripped from the walls and stained the beige carpet. In front of me the window shattered and I screamed. It’s chasing me. I’m running out of breath. Help me. I’m dead.
I wake up panting and sweating. What was that horrible thing in my nightmare? As I blink open my eyes, I see a doll on my dresser. What? That wasn’t there before. I don’t get it. I’m not dreaming still, am I? Oh well. It’s a dumb doll anyway. It has curly blonde hair, green eyes, freckles, light skin, and–
WAIT A MINUTE! My God no! No no no no no no! It… it’s ME! What on earth? My brother Alex must have done this. I barge in his room with the doll. “Is this funny to you!” I say and throw the doll at him. I storm off to my own room. I barely hear him say, “Where did you get this?” I stop dead in my tracks. “Wha-what do you mean, Alex? It was in my room,” I answer as I walk back over to him. “I’m never seen before. It looks just like you.”
“Please tell me this is a joke,” I beg. “It isn’t, Bailey,” his words crush my heart. I felt it sink into stomach. Together, Alex and I get rid of the creepy Bailey-look-a-like-doll in a dumpster. When we drive back home we go into our rooms. “ALEX!” I scream when I see it. The doll is sitting on my bed. He rushes in. We stare at the doll in awe. He curses and throws the doll out my window. He closes and locks every door in the house. That leads us to right now, where we’re hiding in our mom’s closet. She’s gone with dad for the weekend. She would know what to do in a situation like this.
“Stay calm Bailey. It’s probably just a prank,” Alex whispers every once in a while. I’m trembling. “I hate this,” I whisper. Suddenly we freeze. Click. That’s the sound of a lock in our house being opened. Impossible! Our doors lock from the inside. You can only unlock them with a pick! Oh God the doll has a pick. “It has a lock,” Alex whispers what I was thinking. Suddenly the closet door handle jiggles and shakes. I try not to whimper. Then it stops. It’s too quiet.
The door handle breaks off suddenly. The door swings open. I hold Alex’s hand tight. There’s the doll. “Why are you scared of yourself, Bailey? I’m you,” it says in a voice similar to mine, only higher pitched. I can’t speak I’m trembling so hard. “Go away!” Alex yells and throws a high heel at it. As it hits the doll in the arm, my arm suddenly feels pain. What the heck? The doll pulls a knife from behind it’s back. “Stupid children,” it says as I cuts a small cut in her left hand. My left hand suddenly starts bleeding. “Alex!” I say as he’s about to through another shoe. “What?” he asks. “It’s a voodoo doll,” I can hardly say the terrifying words. I show him my hand. The doll smiles. It’s green eyes shine with an evil grimace. My eyes don’t do that. “Good riddance, Bailey,” The doll says as it holds the knife up to its neck.
“NO!” Alex leaps at the doll to take the knife away. But it’s too late. Doll Bailey stabs herself in the neck and collapses. My neck bleeding. I’m dying. This is the end. “Alex,” I barely talk. “Bailey no!” he hugs me. The world goes in and out of focus. “I love you,” we say as I go limp. I’m dead. But it’s just black. I’m dead. Like that.
Because of Voodoo Bailey.
