Becky's Doll

Chapter 3

THE WIND BLEW PAST ME AS I RAN. The whole place that surrounded me was blurry but that didn't stop me from running. I had to run. I knew that I had to run. But why? Why am I running?

The air was cool and the wind kept a constant pace with me as I ran. Nothing stopped me from running. My breath came in through broken gasps and cold sweat beaded my forehead and neck. But I couldn't stop from running. My tired aching legs wouldn't stop no matter how exhausted it was.

A familiar door came in view and my legs reluctantly halted before it. Unbolting the door, I stepped into the room. My bedroom. My legs were turning numb from the strenuous running and I was feeling too worn out to think.

I dragged my exhausted body to the bed and plunged into the covers without even attempting to untie my sneakers. I closed my eyes and felt my body instantly relax under the covers. My chest heaved but I felt better.

I couldn't sleep even if I was extremely tired. Something troubled me and I felt shivers down my back. My heart kept on thumping hard against my chest as if I was still running. The hurried beating of my heart echoed loudly on my eardrums. I felt like something or someone was watching me. It kept me alert and wide awake. The feeling kept on depriving me of sleep.

My aching limbs suddenly felt energized due to the rapid pumping of adrenaline into my blood stream. I jolted awake. I couldn't sleep. I had to run.

I gripped the sheets while trying to control my breathing. I had to calm down. I just couldn't understand why my body was reacting in such a way. I didn't understand the need for running. I had to calm down.

One. Two. Three. Calm down Allison.

That was when I suddenly noticed something moving to my right. I turned to my right and stared at the blank space. My heart beat rapidly within my chest. My body felt like it was preparing for flight. There was nothing but darkness.

Sighing with unexplainable relief, I turned back to my left side and my beating heart took an abrupt halt. I couldn't have imagined that. To my left, a black figure sat with its back to me but facing my dresser mirror. A figure of a human but shrouded in an eerie black mist. It looked so real.

I gasped for air. My chest constricted and the words stuck on my throat. My mind began creating varied horrific images of what would appear as the black figure's face. My body felt paralysed.

The dark figure turned to face me and I couldn't move. The face came clearly in view.

A scream so shrill enough to shatter glass was heard. My own scream.

Suddenly, I opened my eyes. I was laying on my bed. Panting heavily, I slowly sat up on my bed. Gathering up last bits of my strained courage, I forcefully turned my head to the dresser. And there was nothing to my greatest relief. I quickly surveyed the room for any traces of the dark mist. I found nothing. And the normalcy of my room calmed my fears.

It was all but a dream. A strange dream. No, a nightmare.

My heart rate was still high but I felt calmer. My mouth was dry and I was thirsty. Wrapping a robe around as it was chilly, I stepped out of the room to get a glass of water from the kitchen. My senses were fully alert and my eyes roamed around searching greedily for the haunting black figure. I turned on all the lights as I made my way to the kitchen.

I cringed slightly as I descended the creaking wooden stairs. I know that I am being ridiculous but I was scared that I would attract some terrifying inhuman creatures. I guess it was the after effects of a haunting nightmare.

I opened the kitchen door which made considerable noise on doing so. I tiptoed into the kitchen. I didn't know why I was being so secretive. After effects of a haunting nightmare.

Unfortunately the switches to the lights of the kitchen was on the other side of the room. I had to walk a long way to the lights. Maybe not too long but still I had to cross the room. In the darkness, my eyes fell on to the wall were the knife was still stuck on to. The knife was still a mystery to me. I was so freaked out by it that I didn't even attempt to pull it out.

My dad never noticed the larger butcher knife stuck on the wall that was clearly in his line of sight. He was a professional wildlife photographer and there is not even a single detail that is missed out by him. Was something wrong with my eyes? Did I imagine the knife? What about my chunk of hair that was cut off?

As I couldn't see anything, I walked by gripping on the walls. Instead of letting fear grab hold of me, I focussed on walking without tripping. I felt something wet on my hands as I touched the walls. It can't be water though, it was thicker and stickier than that. It can't be glue as it wasn't that sticky. It was way too gooey to be paint.

The cold wetness on my hands slowly started to burn. I ran to put on the lights. I looked around the illuminated room to find everything normal except the awkwardly sticking out knife, of course.

I looked at my hand. Not really accepting what I saw, I stared at my burning hand with my heart literally in my mouth. What the hell?

Blood. My hand was covered in thick dark red blood. The metallic scent of blood filled my nose. I wetted my suddenly dry lips.

I looked around the whitewashed walls, feeling complicated emotions on not finding a trace of dark blood on the fair walls. But I could figure out that fear was what I was feeling most along with surprise and confusion. How could blood get on my hands? How could there be no blood on the walls? It was all so scientifically impossible. My hand was not even hurt and there was no bleeding.

If someone was playing a prank then how could they rub the blood off the walls in a few seconds. My head was whirling and I sat myself on the chair.

How could this happen? Was I going mad?

I stared at my bloodied hand, astonished. My eyebrows wrinkled in clouding confusion. I couldn't have imagined this. The knife was stuck on the wall and it wasn't dripping blood. I looked down the floor find nothing but the wooden floorboards. A scream of utter fear formed on my mouth but I suppressed it down.

I accidentally knocked down the spoon in my confusion, from the table. It dropped to the floor and struck the floor disturbing the eerie silence with its metallic chink. But that didn't scare me.

The spoon didn't stop it's chinking on hitting the floor as it was expected to be. It continued to chink loudly. A few seconds passed by and the metallic chinking of the spoon increased greatly. I shuddered and my eyes widened as I watched the spoon on the floor. It looked like some invisible being was hitting it continuously on the floor. I couldn't move. I was scared.

I watched it as it slowly move to my feet. My sneakered feet. What the bloody hell? I remember wearing only pajamas to bed last night. How is it that I am wearing my sneakers?

What the hell is going on here? Am I going mad?

The spoon thudded on my sneakers and I instantly stood up from my place. I didn't care that a knife was stuck on the wall. I didn't care that my hands were bloodied. I didn't care that I was miraculously wearing sneakers. I didn't care that a stupid spoon was threatening me. I knew I had to get out of here. With the strength I didn't know I had, I tried to run.

Allison, are you trying to run away from me. From me.

And before I could escape this horrifying nightmare, the kitchen door shut close locking me in it.