Okay, this is a horror story proabably been told before, but i'm just editing it longer and stuff, so here goes.
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"I want this one, mummy!" Exclaimed Ann, her really name is Angelina but she's in the 'style' and she want's to be like that... Sharpay girl in High School musical.
"Please, please, please, plleaaasssseee!!" She screamed this time, loud enough to deserve two exclamation points!
"Alright, alright! You little brat," Bridget said, Bridget was the mum and called her daughter 'you little brat' or 'you princess' of course, the little girl would get upset when her mother said 'you little brat', but it was a joke, and she'd learn that when she's older.
Her mum bought the scary looking dolly, it reminder her of chucky, and she suddenly had a flash of the doll killing her, but that's just imagination. But it scared her. Alot.
(sorry for the sudden '13 years later' stuff, but that's how the original story goes.)
13 years later.
Algelina was spring cleaner with her mother, she was working upstairs and her mother was working downstairs, her father died two years ago from lung cancer, because he smoked about fifteen cigarettes a day.
She was cleaning out her room, she had accomplished the bed, dusted the shelves, cleaned out the clothes on the floor, cleaned her desktop computer, next was the old toys, rubbish or general old stuff.
She cleaned out her bin first, there was just the usual, apple cores, orange peel, paper, you know... Normal stuff that go in the bin.
Then she cleaned out her toy box, she cleaned out all her teddy bears and stuffed toys, next she went onto dolls and broken china dolls. She came across Molly, the doll she bought 13 years ago, and looked at it, so many memories of it, too much to remember it all, but she didn't need the doll, it was just a stupid little doll with 6 fingers, it was useless.
So she threw it in the basement.
The kitchen is located in the rear of the house, there's a sink, cupboards, a table, and loads of cooking utensils. There's also the door that leads to the basement.
Dinner time, a place of relax, eating, drinking, talking, you know... Food, dinner. Today, that Braconi family were having a classic Italian meal, Spaghetti!
Bread was laid out in the centre of the table, cups of coke in front of the bowls of squiggly lines called spaghetti, and seasoning and herbs next to the bread, nicely set out.
They began eating, first it was in silence, but then Mrs. Braconi had something to talk about,
"Today i cleaned all of the living room and the kitchen, as you can see," She said, pride swelling her chest,
"It looks really great, mum, you did a good job, thanks," replied Ann Braconi. Tears of joy glistened in Mrs. Braconi's eyes.
"T-thanks you for saying that." Mrs. Braconi stuttered.
Then there was silence.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
No-one noticed it.
Scratch. Scratch.
"I wonder what that could be?" Curiosity bouncing on Mrs. Braconi's head.
"Probably just a stray dog scratching out front door, it'll be alright," replied Ann cooly.
"He might spoil out paint i'll go check it out," Mrs. Braconi added.
Ann sighed, she thought her mum tried too hard to keep the house clean and tidy, a dog won't do much damage.
Her mother returned.
"There was no sign of a dog whatsoever. I wonder what's doing that scratching?"
They found out. That night.
Ann couldn't sleep, although it was a late Saturday night, she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She tried all the sleeping methods but still couldn't sleep.
That's when she heard it.
Creek.
"Molly's on the first step."
She dismissed it as a work of imagination.
"Molly's on the second step."
She had definately heard it. I wonder if her mum heard it, she's usually a very light sleeper.
"Molly's on the tenth step."
Her heart pounding out of her chest, there were eleven stairs on this staircase, whoever it was will soon be on the landing.
"Molly's outside your mummy's room," The same, jolly, sing-a-long voice.
"Molly's on your mummy's bed,"
"Molly's got a knife,"
"And your mummy's died."
Oh my god, this must be a practical joke, because she hadn't heard a door open, or any screaming, she wanted to go check on her mom but it seemed like she'd been tied by 1mile of rope.
"Molly's crossing the corridor."
"Molly's outside your room."
Ann heard a door open, and a giggling, by this time she hid under the blanket. This was not a joke.
"Molly's on your bed."
She felt something go onto her bed, at the foot, then climbed along her leg.
"Molly's gonna kill you!" But this time, it sounded like a growl mixed in with the innocent girl tone.
"Ahhhhhhhh!"
Now, the doll had 8 fingers.
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Now all my stories are just stuff I am getting from my files, lol.
Yes I wrote them.