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NOTE: This is based on a dream I had.
You have been warned, and enjoy.
For pretty much my whole life I've enjoyed collecting baby dolls, I have a whole box of them. One day, my father brought some baby dolls home from my grandmother. My grandmother had the same interest for collecting dolls as I do, and I always love her baby dolls.
They were always so interesting. My father brought back three or four dolls, but one of them really caught my eye. It was a really beautiful doll with short light brown hair, beautiful green eyes, and it looked so realistic. So I picked that one over the others, of course, but the thing is, the doll needed batteries.
My father went out and bought some batteries for me. I put them in the doll, and man, the doll was amazing. Not only did it looked realistic, it acted realistic too! I loved that doll so much. Soon it felt like my own child. I then later found a note inside the box it was in. Thinking it was probably just an instruction manual or something, I read it. The note said:
"Do not turn on the doll. The doll is very bad and will scare you. This doll cannot be killed. Make sure to place this doll where it'll never be found again."
Huh? What an awful joke. I've had my little Baby Alive for a while now, and it's the sweetest thing ever; it'll never hurt me. Of course I never really believed this, since I myself have a love for creepypasta but I know most of them are pretty fake, so that's what I figured about this one. I just placed the note back in the box.
A few nights later my precious little baby came crawling to me crying; it wanted a hug. So I picked it up and gave it a hug, then the baby calmed down and stayed quiet for a little while. I love my Baby Alive. I loved it like my own child. I swear, this thing doesn't seem or feel like a baby doll. It felt so real, and it felt like mine.
I was so happy to have her, but all of a sudden the baby started to cry again. But this time, the baby's cry just got deeper and deeper. I thought this was strange, but then I remembered! The batteries! That's right! It needs batteries, but the baby's been up and running for months, and the batteries never went dead, and well, when the batteries go dead, what would that mean? Would the baby die?
If I replace the batteries would she completely forget about me? I was worried, until the baby grabbed me. She was digging her fingers into my waist. It hurt so bad; I couldn't believe it. Was that note really telling the truth? Was my baby really evil? No, I didn't wanna think of it that way! But then my father came in yelling. He told me that he found the note, and noticed how the baby was scratching my waist and making it bleed. He told me we had no other choice but to kill it and get it off of me.
My father grabbed the baby by the hair and started trying to pull it off and he ended up ripping out some of its hair. The baby kept crying. I couldn't stand the sight. My baby's head was bleeding. I didn't want to see my baby in pain so I told my father to pull it off where it was grabbing a hold of my waist with its arm. My father tried to pull as hard as he could, and he ended up ripping some of my skin off around my hip. The pain was burning, but I'd rather be in pain than my baby. Even though it turned and tried to kill me, I still really loved it.
My father walked off with the baby into the shed outside our house. I ran after him, but it was too late. In the building, I saw my baby hanging there by a rope. I was in tears and felt sick just at the sight. My hip still hurt very much so it was kinda hard for me to walk around, but then the baby started crying! It was still alive.
Yes, the note mentioned that you can't kill the baby. My father then took the batteries out of it, then it slowly stopped crying. Is it over? Is the baby finally dead? There's a part of me that hopes it isn't, because deep inside I still loved it. But once again, it started crying! But this time it was crying like a baby doll with low batteries.
The baby tried getting out of the rope. That's when my father got his gun and started shooting it. The baby quit moving all together. We waited a little while before taking it down to make sure if it stopped working, and well, we did it.
After all this I was rushed off to the hospital because of my hip. At the hospital my mother tried to comfort me; but no matter how anyone tried, I will never get over that day. Meanwhile my father put the 'doll' back in the box it came from and my brother wrote another note to put in the box to warn people about this doll just in case somebody was to ever find it again.
If you ever stumble upon this doll, listen to the notes. Don't turn it on or anything. Leave it alone. You are guaranteed to fall in love with this doll and then have it taken away from you. Or worse, It'll get you.