Forlot: Welcome to the Dummy House - Book Forty-One

Chapter Twenty

I screamed like never before and backed away. My legs trembled. Goosebumps appeared all over my skin. I let go of what scared me and shoved Olive in Mom's arms. I wanted to take my eyes off it. I wanted to glance away and pretend that it never existed. But I could not. I just was too shocked.

The last thing that you desire to pull out of a cookie jar is a severed hand. Or so I thought that it was a severed hand.

I focused on my breathing and placed my hands on my chest. My heart was beating so hard that I thought that it would rip a hole through my chest. I wanted to cry. I did not know what else to do. I wanted to hug Dad and Mom and sob. But it is a good thing that I realized that the hand was not what it seemed.

It took me a couple seconds to realize that this severed hand was not real. It was not flesh. It was plastic. Now it made sense. That hard item in the cookie jar was not a cookie. It was a plastic hand. A doll's hand.

Why was a doll's hand in our cookie jar?

Dad walked past Mom and Olive and put a hand on my shoulder. I was so shocked that I forgot that my family was in the kitchen. I gasped and jerked away. I did not realize how hot I was until I tugged on my shirt. How I wanted to strip myself and sit next to a fan. Who else?

I looked up and saw that it was Dad. I was drenched in sweat. I apologized for my reaction and screaming and wiped my forehead. He reassured me that it was no big deal and added if I was alright. I shrugged and glanced at my shoes. I let my arms dangle. I had no idea how to answer. I was both shocked and upset that I found this plastic hand in our cookie jar. I wanted to throw all the cookies away. I wanted to gag. No way was I eating one of those cookies. Who knows where the doll's hand has been?

At least that it was not an actual hand. Now that would have traumatized me. I was so relieved that it was fake. Now if only I knew how it wound up in the cookie jar.

My breath caught in my throat as I walked towards the hand and dropped to my knees. With a shaking hand, I picked it up and stared intently at it. I had to be sure. I had to make sure that it was a fake. I dangled the filthy hand by my finger and my thumb and brought it close. I immediately pulled it away and pinched my nose. Oh my gosh. It smelled. It needed to go!

I tossed the hand back on the floor and rose. My father asked what I was doing, but I did not reply. I wanted to get the hand out of here. I ripped off a paper towel and put it over the hand. Then I picked them up and ran to the back of our house. I scrambled to the trash bin and opened it. I chucked them in and shut the bin. I looked at my hands and could not believe how dirty they were.

"I really need to wash my hands," I said. "It is best that I do not touch anything until they are clean."

I figured that would be the end of the nightmare. I was incorrect. I had only taken a step back when I heard an odd noise. I turned my attention back to the bin. It was coming from inside said bin. I did not panic. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Sounded like that the thing was trying to escape. But what could it be?

The noises were too loud to be a bug. Maybe it was this rodent. A raccoon or a possum searching for food. This poor animal was trapped. I could not let it die. I had to help it. I needed to free it.

I should not have opened the lid. But how could I have known? You may not believe me when I tell you. When I opened the lid and poked my head in, I jumped back. I did not even get the chance to cry out. I watched as it leaped from the bin and landed on my face. I could not see. It was not until I grabbed it that I realized that the animal was not an animal. It was not furry or scaly.

It took me a few seconds to realize that it was the doll's hand. It was alive!

I tried to scream, but the hand was covering my mouth and squeezing my face. I tightened my grasps on it and managed to pry it off. I groaned as I raised it above my head and threw it on the grass. The hand rolled until it came to a complete stop. It was on its back. I could not believe this incident. I covered my mouth and stared at it. It could not be alive. It was a doll's hand. How could it be moving by itself?

I wasted no time. I raced back in the house and locked the back door. I was catching my breath and leaned on the door. I wanted to tell somebody about said hand. I did not want to be alone. But who could I tell? Nobody would believe me, not even my family. The only person whom I knew outside of my family was Jack. Though, I did not want him to think that I was crazy.

I pushed myself away from said door and said, "A-am I losing my mind?"

Then I heard a loud knock at the front door.