1: That Giant, Ugly Doll

"Hi! I'm Chucky! Wanna play?"

I stare at the giant, hideous doll in my hands, feeling absolutely horrified. His beady, blue eyes stare back expectantly. The scars running all over his face look nearly real, almost to the point that I want to reach out and touch them to see how they feel. But, I don't. They look pretty gross, honestly.

"Why did you buy me this?!" I scream at my brother, who is nearby laughing his head off. "You know I hate scary stuff like this!"

Arnold, my brother, is still busy laughing. Haha-hehe. It's so amusing that for my sixteenth birthday, my brother bought me a Chucky doll.

You know who Chucky is, right? That creepy doll from Child's Play? The one that killed people by cutting them apart and had that really creepy laugh? That's the one. Apparently, some guy on eBay makes them for a cheap price and Arnold thought it would be oh-so-hilarious if I received one for my birthday.

I'm not amused.

"Aw, it looks just like you," Arnold teases while rubbing the top of my head. "You guys can be twins."

I glance down apprehensively at the Chucky doll and pout. I do not look like him. I don't even have red hair, for crying out loud! I huff and gently place the doll on my lap. Well, he may be hideous and disturbing and really, really scary-looking, but he's still a birthday gift. I'll hold onto him for a little while, at least until I find a nice, cozy fire to toss him into.

Mom claps her hands together, bringing the attention back to the rest of my gifts. She looks just about as enthused as she does for any of our birthdays: pretty much not. I know she loves us with all of her heart but I guess she wishes that we would have birthday parties with our friends instead of her all of the time. Sadly, I don't think I have enough friends for a birthday party. I'd be lucky to get two people here for my birthday who weren't over 60 and weren't related to me.

I open the rest of my gifts with glee. Oh yeah, I'm rackin' up, baby! I've got a new cell phone, a video camera, some new clothes, and a new diary. Mom knows how much I love to write, so this last one had to be from her.

"You still have one left!" my little sister, Macy, coos excitedly. I think she's more excited for my birthday than I am. Well, she's a cheerleader. Being perky is part of the job, I guess. Her brown bob bounces along with her jittery body.

I grab my present like a greedy panther handling fish and go to tear into it, but a cluck of Macy's tongue stops me. I groan and shoot her a playful glare. "What?" I ask.

"You should open it with Chucky!" she suggests. "He says he wants to play with you!"

I glance down at the giant doll that's resting peacefully in my lap. I look up and see Macy giving me her puppy-dog eyes, the ones she uses to get her way for any and everything.

I sigh and say, "Fine," before grabbing Chucky's tiny hands and bringing them towards my pretty package. "Let's open it together, okay?" I coo to Chucky like a person might talk to a kitten. I pretend to use Chucky's hands to unwrap the present. After a bit of a struggle, we manage to get the present open.

I hold up my present and blink at it. "It's a…pocket knife," I announce. I'm not displeased with the gift, but I am a little shocked. Mom is always so against us carrying around weapons. I give her a wary smile. "Erm. Cool. Thanks, Mom."

Mom looks confused. "I didn't get you that," she admits. "You know how I feel about weapons."

I glance at my siblings but they both shake their heads. Neither of them bought it for me, either.

"Huh," I grunt while I twirl the blade around with my fingers. "I guess maybe Dad sent it." We all shrug dismissively before we start digging into my ice cream cake. Yum, it's awesome! It's one of those Blizzard cakes from Dairy Queen, the one with the brownie pieces in the bottom. We sit around the table, talking and laughing about whatever came to mind. I know it's not a Sweet Sixteen fit for MTV but it's perfect for me. I love my family and I wouldn't want to share my birthday with anyone else.

One thing really sucks, though. Having a birthday on a Sunday. I still have to go to bed early tonight since school is tomorrow. Whelp, it's not like I had any big, exciting plans for tonight anyway, right? Hahaha…

Ha.

-000-

I bury my face in my pillow and breathe in its floral scent. Why does this always happen? I always have a great time hanging out with the fam for my birthday, always. But it never fails. I always start thinking about what the other girls my age do for their birthdays.

Especially Bethany Glimmer. Even her name sounds annoying, right? Well, she's the most popular girl in Springdale High School, complete with her own posse of Mean Girls, you know the drill-she's a bad teen movie cliche come to life. She's like my complete opposite. She goes to parties; I stay home and read. She has numerous boyfriends every week; I've had about three in my entire life and I didn't really like any of them.

Needless to say, sometimes I wonder how my life would be if I were in her shoes. Would I be out celebrating with friends on my birthday instead of curling up in bed and smelling my pillow?

Probably so.

I sigh and cast a glance at Chucky, who I have allowed to sit upon my nightstand. Gosh, he's creepy-looking. I reach out my hand and tap his nose with my finger. His nose is soft and smooth, almost like human flesh.

"Wow, you're really…" I pause to yawn as my eyes start to droop close. "Really big…and ugly."

My eyes have just closed when I hear someone say, "You're so dead."

My eyes are open in 0.35 seconds and I'm sitting straight up in bed. I look around the room, searching for the source of the voice. I glance down at my phone and realize that I still have my music playing. That's probably what I heard; the music still coming from the earphones. I turn my phone off and settle back into bed. I hold my pillow like a person and bury my face into it. What kind of shampoo do I use? It smells so good…. Like food...

"Do you wanna play, Rose?"

I sit up again, poised like a snake ready to strike.

"Who's there?" I ask the silent room. Of course, no one answers. I'm a little paranoid now. That voice sounded strangely like the mechanical voice that comes out of Chucky. When I turn around to grab him from the nightstand, a scream bubbles out of my throat.

He's gone.

(A/N: What would be your next move? Mine-probably hide under my covers lol

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll be posting the other immediately just 'cause! :)

Bye-byez,

CR)