Essay by pjflyerthanuJunior High, 8th gradeA-, November 2008

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It was May 13th, Hillary's 15th birthday. Her mother, who treated her like a three year old insisted on taking her to a toy store to buy her something. Hillary agreed to go with her. When they walked into the toy store, Hillary flew over to the Barbie dolls. Her eyes widened with excitement. "What about this one?" the mother asked Hillary picking up a doll. She picked up a small, black haired, creepy looking doll with glass eyes. "It's great!" Hillary lied, forcing a fake smile. They paid for the doll and the two of them went back home.

That night Hillary fell asleep quickly. She was worn out from all the party food, presents, and dancing at her party... Ding, ding, ding. The clock in the hallway struck 3. It was early in the morning and everyone was sound asleep except for the creepy doll named Liz.

She walked from the kitchen, through the hall and stood on the bottom step of the stairs.

Hillary sat up in bed. The clock woke her from her sleep like an annoying alarm clock. As she lay back down on her fluffy pillows she heard a small voice calling her from downstairs saying, "Hillary, I'm coming up the stairs." Hillary sat up for the second time. Was it her imagination? "Hillary, I'm in your mom’s room." The voice was talking in a creepy voice. The sound of it made Hillary's heart pound. She put a hand over her mouth, as if to try and silence her heart. "Hillary!" This time the voice was her mother’s. Hillary dived under her blankets, shaking with fear.

A couple minutes of silence passed. Hillary could feel the sunlight begin to fill her room. The light brought her much comfort. Slowly and very shakily she came from underneath the blankets. She stood by her bed for a few minutes, listening for a sound of danger. No unusual sound was heard so she walked to her mom’s bedroom. She pushed the door open. She almost screamed when it made a loud squeak. She walked into the room and fell to her knees. There in front of her lay her mother’s body. Her mother’s face was distorted with a screaming face, eyes frozen with terror even in death. Then she heard the squeaky noise again. "Hillary, I'm behind you." Hillary turned around slowly only to face the now closed door. Liz, the creepy looking doll was grinning at her. Her face was dotted with blood and her dress was ripped. "Hillary, do you know why you should never play with knives?" asked Liz.

It was about 10 p.m. that night. Officer Leighton stood next the body of the deceased Ms. Wilkins. "I can't believe this. I've been working for years and never in my life have I seen-" "I know how you feel." interrupted his partner. "I feel sorry for her daughter. She'll never be the same again." The police officers both turned to look out of the window and watched a man in a white suit carry the battered and bloody fifteen year old girl to the asylum ambulance. "Did she say anything about what happened?" asked Leighton, briefly glancing over the china doll. "Not exactly, sir. She was going on with nonsense about knives and dolls." The next week Leighton bought the same china doll for his 6 year old daughter…