The Monkey Doll

I once owned a monkey doll. It had a very pale face. Every night I have the very same nightmare about this one doll. Here's how it started. One day on my way home from school, I tripped on some pink fluffy thing. I picked it up and saw that it was a monkey plush. I took it home and kept it ever since, but while I had it strange things were happening.

My mom pretends to not know who I am and my brother won't talk to me and always sits locked inside his room. The plush is following me. Wherever I go the doll is always there.

One night at 3:00 A.M. I was sleeping peacefully but then I was woken up by a loud banging and screaming noise. I jumped out of my bed and ran downstairs to see what all the noise was only to find my mom's dead body laying on the kitchen floor with her stomach open with guts spilling out and on top of her dead corpse was the monkey doll. In its hand was a bloody knife. I rushed to my brother's room to find that my brother was not there. I searched the whole house, but my brother was nowhere to be found.

I tried to call my friend for help but all I could hear on the phone was a really statical whisper which said, "You are next." After that I threw the phone. I turned around and saw the monkey doll sitting there, staring at me with the bloody knife, then it was gone.

Later that day I went to my room and saw the monkey doll on the shelf. I grabbed it, took it outside, and burned it. I went back to my room to see, "I will be back," written on my wall in blood. My new family has been normal ever since that day, until now.