There was a young girl

And she had a toy

It was like her own child

Hers alone to enjoy.

It was tattered and battered

If alive 't would be lame

Eyes and mouth both gone

But she loved it just the same.

Yet she grew very concerned

And asked her mother one day

"Should I throw my dolly out?"

Her mother said, "Yes, it's filthy and dirty, so throw it away!"

The girl, very sadly

threw away her old torn doll

And when she told the news to her mother

She couldn't help but start to bawl.

The mother, in concern

Got a new doll, all shiny and new

She told the girl, "Don't worry, little one

You'll forget your dirty old doll soon!"

She adored this new doll

She loved it a lot

She cherished it more than her old one

Which she soon forgot.

But the doll hadn't forgotten

It hadn't forgotten her yet

For now it was revenge-filled

It had turned into a Banette.

At midnight it set off

As quiet as a mouse

And slowly sneaked in

Into her bedroom, her house.

The drowsy girl awoke

Confused that she couldn't see

She looked around perplexed

Until she heard a raspy voice go, "Remember me?"

The girl did not scream

But simply turned white

She whispered, "Please don't hurt me, I'm sorry!"

The Banette smiled; the girl sobbed silently with fright.

Banette, leering, said, "You'll pay dearly, friend,"

The girl bit her lip

And before she could say her final words

The Banette opened its zip.

The dark energy overcame her,

She felt heavier than a Groudon-filled sack

The Banette laughed evilly

For the girl, all went black...

Her mother found her next day

Looking rather dead

There was no sign of what killed her

But a dark smear on her forehead.

Yet the very next morn

Her body disappeared without a trace

All that was left was an unfamiliar doll

It was a mind-baffling case.

When friends asked what was left of the girl,

Her mother would say,

"All that was left was a ragged, filthy doll,

So I just threw it away."

Little did she know

Little did anyone know at all

For the mother had thrown away her child

Who, by the hands of her old one, had been turned into a doll.

A/N: Please ignore any illogical parts of this poem. It is not only my first creepy pasta, but also my first creepy pasta poem.

First of all, a few announcements:

1. I am happy to announce that Pokémon Gijinka 1- The Gijinki Arisen will be continuing! It was meant to be a trilogy, and it shall stay that way. I'm going to edit it slightly though. Can someone please remind me that 'gijinka' is the term for one, and 'gijinki' is the plural? I keep forgetting. And at one point in Heather's adventure I will be accepting OC's created by you readers.

2. Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: The Guardian And The Heart will also be continuing, but slower than the aforementioned Gijinka 1. It is going to be renamed soon as well. I have changed the plot significantly since I last wrote for that.

3. Sadly, Champions and Magicians will not be continuing. Lola might appear as a minor character in Gijinka 1 though, under a different surname, personality, and etc.

4. This Isn't A Romance Story will be continuing, but once I gain inspiration. It will go a lot faster, too.

Until I update, keep-a-writing, folks!

- Shiny Kirby