Sasha
Grandma's Dolly
The day Grandma gave me her favorite doll was only the beginning of many events that were bound to happen sooner or later. It was a gate that should've stayed shut, a tree that should have been burnt. The day grandma gave me that doll, was the day the Devil gave birth to an angel.
It has been 15 years since I was born, and 15 years since my grandmother gave me that doll. I flinched as I thought the word "doll" in my head. The doll, it is a topic that has been banished from the mouths of all those near me. Every time I see a doll, it reminds me of "her". I once again shuddered as an image of "her" entered my mind. Her red hair that once looked so wild and pretty now left a fiery imprint in my brain. Her one blue eye that used to remind me of waves now left me suffocating at its icy glare. Now that I think about it though, it is weird how she had one blue eye, for the other seemed like a black void into the depths of hell or a dark tunnel sucking you into oblivion. "She" was evil, a doll made from hell, devised to trick people with her unique beauty, and I was too young and naïve to have not fallen for "her" trap.
As this thought entered my head I looked at four white walls, my sanctuary, surrounding me as my body shook with tears. I was shaking so violently that the doctors came in to sedate me, and the darkness swarmed in to carry me into a nightmare, my nightmare.
