My childhood was filled with toys, usually homemade. I really enjoyed dolls, specifically the ones that were similar to the once popular “Raggedy Anne.” I kept a few dolls that were important to my childhood, such as my first I ever received, ones that I really played with, and others with sentimental value.
I always kept the sentiments in a moving box in the garage, as if I didn’t even care about the dolls, even though they had such an impact on my childhood. They didn’t seem to like that, or at least, that’s what my mind thought. Dolls don’t have minds of their own…
The doll had black hair, a pale face and no eyes. Her eyes must've fallen out somehow... I thought to myself. I picked her up out of the box, setting her next to the box.
Oh, how I love these… I thought to myself, igniting a former passion for the antiques.
I turned my attention from the dolls to the smoke alarm, which was now going haywire.
I ran into the garage to grab the small stepstool so I could reach the only smoke alarm I could think of, which was in the kitchen. I turned to go back into the kitchen, when I noticed the door linking the kitchen to the garage was closed.
I swear I left that open… I thought to myself.
I then tried to open the door. Locked.
I began to panic. Nobody could lock that door! I live alone for crying out loud!
Paranoia began to set in. I tried to open the garage door. I reached for the device upon the wall that would open it. I only touched some wires. It was dismantled.
I began looking around in the garage.
”Hey Gina! Do you remember me? You used to play with me all the time until you abandoned me.”
I shrieked at the mention of my name.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
“It’s me! Don’t you remember me? You abandoned me. Now you must pay.”