Lily found the old doll in her grandmother’s attic. Its porcelain face was cracked, and its dress was dusty, but something about it fascinated her. She brought it home, naming it Missy.
That night, as Lily slept, she heard soft whispers coming from the doll. “Play with me,” it seemed to say. At first, she thought it was just her imagination. But as the days passed, strange things began to happen. Missy would change positions, moving from the shelf to Lily’s bed, always watching her with those lifeless eyes.
One evening, Lily’s friend Sarah came over. “That doll is creepy,” Sarah said, shivering. But Lily didn’t listen. That night, she dreamed of Missy, who danced in a dark room, surrounded by shadows.
The next morning, Lily woke to find Missy missing. Panic set in. She searched the house but couldn’t find her. Just then, she heard laughter coming from the attic. Climbing the stairs, Lily found the doll sitting on a box, its eyes gleaming.
“Let’s play forever,” Missy whispered, and before Lily could scream, the attic door slammed shut. No one heard her cries, and the doll remained, waiting for its next friend to play with.
