I haven't always been scared of dolls. But recently, they have been getting on my nerves. It's like they can read me.

It started out with a prank. My father would set the doll in my room to scare me. I brushed it off as harmless, just bring the doll back to him, and going on with my day. Since then I've moved out, and I live on my own. I refuse to have any putrid dolls in my home, due to my everlasting fear of them.

Everywhere I go, I see them. I do not just see any doll, but the one my father had used to torment me. I didn't notice it at first, catching just a slight glimpse of it in my peripheral vision. When I first started to see it, it was on a park bench, or sitting in a coffee shop. But then it got closer.

I had been working all week, and wanted the weekend to rest. Friday night, I get home, walk in the door, glance around as if it were a ritual, and continue after noticing nothing out-of-the-ordinary. But then, I noticed. Stuff was misplaced. Stuff went missing. It was nothing at first again, but then it got to be heavier stuff, like my whole table. With me on the verge of insanity, I decided to go to my parents for the weekend.

Upon arrival, we talked a bit, and after a while of conversing, I bring up the fact that weird stuff has been happening. I mentioned too, that I had noticed the doll they used to terrorize me. The shock and horror on their faces was unbelievable.

"We've never owned any dolls before," they said. I sunk.

My insides exploded. I went insane. The whole rest of the weekend, they could barely look at me. I left early Sunday morning. Three hour drive, and it was all spent thinking about that doll.

Finally at home, I reach for my keys, unlock the door, and dropped my stuff. Walking in, I saw it. The red eyes, red hair, white face. It just sat there and glared at me.

"Welcome home," it said with a reassuring smile.