I don't know why I'm bothering publishing this.

Its not like anyone will believe this story. But nonetheless, I need to tell someone about this. If anything it will give me reassurance that I'm not going insane. My dad thinks I'm nuts, my mom doesn't care, and my sister...well, you'll see.

I haven't slept during the night in seven weeks. I've had to nap during the three hours every afternoon when Sarah goes to violin practice. Two to five every afternoon.

The last straw was this afternoon. There I was, playing xbox with Alison. Sarah had just left for practice. Alison brought up my increasing paranoia and strange overall behavior. Of course I got pissed at her accusations of insanity and snapped at her. I screamed at her if she thought I was making all this up. After a moment of silence, she simply asked, "Are you?"

I demanded that she leaves, so she left.

I tried texting her a few hours later, but she's been ignoring me, can't blame her. She doesn't understand. Nobody understands.

Lets back things up. Seven weeks ago, summer break began. I had just graduated from my junior year of high school, with a C or two. So naturally I got grounded for the summer. Geometry, you truly will be the death of me.

Dad said that I could do whatever, as long as I stayed inside the house. Beats last time I got grounded, he banished me to my room for six months. Hence I took up writing. So anyway, back to subject.

Seven weeks ago I was grounded, and subsequently, bored out of my mind. Figures there'd be nothing on tv or on Youtube. Both my parents were at work and I was home alone with Sarah. Don't call it babysitting. When child in question is fifteen, it is less babysitting, more making sure house doesn't burn to the ground.

Sarah was playing with those damned dolls of hers. What fifteen year old girl plays with dolls, constantly, in their free time?!

She has all the types. Ponies, pockets, barbies, a stuffed bear or two...etc.

Twelve dollhouses. How do I know? I counted the things. Each with its own elaborate setup. One is a castle with the four ponies, one is a wooden house with two pockets, one is a plastic house with five stuffed animals, the rest I don't know for sure. Seven weeks ago when I ventured into my sister's playroom, those were the ones that caught my eye.

Sarah was sitting on the floor by her bed looking at the space under the bed mournfully. I sat down beside her and watched in a combination of confusion and intrigue. After I asked just what the hell she was doing, she looked at me sadly and pointed to the space.

"They're dead."

Alarmed, I asked her who was. She sighed in annoyance and explained, "This is the graveyard. Its where the dead dolls go when they die. Mrs. Johnston died this morning."

A chill ran down my spine. No, it wasn't from her cryptic games. (She's always been a little off) What made me sleep with the light on that night was the simple fact that Mrs. Johnston was our neighbor from across the street. Why she would name a doll after our neighbor...hell if I know. So I asked her.

"Why did you name a toy after Mrs. Johnston?"

Sarah looked at me as if I was asking the mother of all idiot questions.

"I didn't name her. She named herself, duh."

"Okay...so why did she name...herself after the neighbor?"

Sarah shot me a look. "Because that's who she is. Geez, Sam are you always this braindead? Its not rocket science you know."

Playing along, I wanted more information. "So which one was she?"

Sarah carefully cradled a blue pony with rainbow hair in her hands. With a sigh, Sarah gently placed the toy under her bed. "I'm gonna miss her. She had the prettiest hair. The other ponies aren't as nice as her."

I decided to address the elephant in the room. "So, how did she die?"

Sarah turned back to a plastic boat in the corner of the room. "Elizabeth pushed her down the stairs. Mrs. Johnston was so pretty. Elizabeth was jealous. So she killed her."

Elizabeth was her daughter.

I forced a smile before I left the playroom, convinced that at this rate my sister would be committed.

So imagine my shock and utter horror when the next day, I saw cop cars in front of the neighbors house. Apparently, Elizabeth had found her mother, dead, at the bottom of their stairs in their home. I immeadiately went to my parents and calmly explained the bats#%t situation I had found myself in. Naturally they called me nuts and sent me to, get this, spend quality time with Sarah. A+ parenting, folks.

I begged them not to make me hang out with Sarah, I assumed the worst. You know, possession, witchcraft.

After twenty minutes of begging, I had no choice to play with Sarah and her dolls. So I went back to the playroom and found Sarah talking to the ponies in the plastic castle by the wall. I tried to be quiet as I approached her, if this was witchcraft, I was going to go Scooby doo on it, damn it!

I was able to make out some of the conversation.

"But what about...okay...really? That's not good...Poor girl...That's gotta hurt...she is?"

After that, Sarah nearly gave me a heart attack by turning around and facing me. She narrowed her eyes at me.

"What the hell do you want?" Kate hissed out with venom ozzing in her voice.

I smiled weakly. "I got bored. Can I play with you?"

Sarah's face lit up and she grabbed a pink pony. She shoved it into my hands and scooted over to make room for me to sit. After I took my place beside her, Sarah pointed to the castle.

"This is our house." She nodded to the toy in my hands. "That's you."

I gulped and nodded in understanding. Sarah continued, pointing to a plastic box across the room with two pollies on it. "That's Alison's house. She's the one with black hair of course. Here, you can go to her house whenever you want. I won't tell dad."

I relaxed slightly. "What else can I do?"

Sarah shrugged. "Whatever. Just stay away from Elizabeth. She's trouble."

"Right. So if this is our house, which one's you?"

Sarah smiled excitedly and picked up a pink pony. "This one is me. She's going over to Madison's house."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who's Madison?"

Sarah pointed to a teddy bear facing the corner of the room. Sarah glared at it. "Everyone died. Now she's all alone. They sent her away."

"Who did?"

"The police. Because everyone died. Now she's locked away."

That was the last I heard of Sarah's cryptic doll talk. After that we played for a few hours. Sarah did her own thing while I did mine. I'd tell you what we played, but honestly, I don't remember. The next day passed without much incident. As did the rest of the week. I shrugged off the eerie experience as just a coincidence. I mean, what else could it be?