Emma Rice

English 9, Period 4
22 September 2017

DOLLY

The neighborhood was peculiarly quiet on the day that a package came to the Sayoni
house. Ding dong; Phoebe ran to the door to see who was there.
“Who is it,” Phoebe asked.
“Package Delivery service,” a deep voice replied.
Phoebe opened the door and picked up the package on her doormat. She looked around to see
where the man with the deep voice was, but saw him nowhere. Phoebe shrugged and closed the
door behind her as she walked back inside.
“Mom a package came,” Phoebe called. Mrs. Sayoni, Phoebe’s mother, walked out of the
kitchen while still drying her hands. Phoebe handed her mother the package and stood there
waiting to see what was inside.
“It seems to be from your grandmother,” said Mrs. Sayoni reading the back, “and is
addressed to you.”
“Wow,” remarked Phoebe, “it must be my late birthday present; I wonder what she got
me.” Mrs. Sayoni walked back to the kitchen and brought out a cutting knife, and began
carefully sliding the knife across the box. Phoebe looked inside with a hopeful smile on her
freckled face that then slowly turned into a frown. “What is this,” Phoebe asked in a disgusted
tone voice.
“It looks like an antique doll,” Mrs. Sayoni replied. No words came from Phoebe as she
stared down in the box, slowly picking the doll up. In her hands was the ugliest doll she had ever
seen, it had razor sharp teeth that looked a little too real, cracked porcelain skin, and a devious
smile plastered across the face. Phoebe tossed the doll into the corner of the dining room, and
was about to storm off to her room when her mother chirped in.
“Phoebe Kathrin Sayoni, you come back here this instant,” Phoebe’s mother yelled, “your
grandmother put an awful lot of thought into this gift, so you better appreciate it.” Her deep
ocean blue eyes were locked onto Phoebe's young face. Phoebe reluctantly took the doll off the
floor and walked away. “As if I am ever going to keep this doll,” Phoebe said to herself. Instead
of going upstairs to her room, Phoebe turned and walked to the closet downstairs and threw the
disturbing doll inside and closed the door.
 That night as Phoebe was drifting off to sleep; she heard a small scratchy voice calling
her name, “Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe.”
Phoebe dove under her covers shivering with fear, only revealing her mousey brown hair.
Then almost immediately the voice stopped calling her name, but she heard what sounded like
little feet scurrying across the floor downstairs.
“Phoebe,” the voice called again, “I am on the second step.” Phoebe closed her eyes tight
and wished for the voice to go away, and finally it did. She fell asleep scared of what had just
happened, and all she could think about was her doll. In the morning, she ran downstairs to look
in the closet for her doll. Phoebe found the doll in the same place she had left it the previous day.
She laughed at herself for her silly imagination and walked back upstairs to get ready for
school.That night again, Phoebe heard the small scratchy voice calling her name.
“Phoebe, Phoebe I am on the ninth step.” Now Phoebe was beyond scared and did not
sleep at all that night. The mysterious voice was increasing every night getting closer and closer
to Phoebe’s room on the second floor. There were about 17 steps on Phoebe’s staircase, and
whatever was calling her name was getting closer to the top. The next day at school, Phoebe told
all of her friends about the creepy things that were happening to her at night. She told them about
the voice and how it was climbing up her stairs each night getting closer and closer to her room.
Her friends though that Phoebe was being paranoid and just laughed at her.
That night Phoebe asked her mother if she could keep a light on in her room, but her
mother said no because then the bright light would keep her awake. Phoebe begged her mother,
but her answer did not change. As a compromise her mother left the hall light on instead, this
satisfied Phoebe enough. Again Phoebe heard little footsteps that night and a small scratchy
voice.
“Phoebe, Phoebe I am at the top,” the small voice called. In the dark, Phoebe saw the
handle on her door turn ever so slightly. The door creaked open, and the hall light poured into
Phoebe’s room with a small shadow.
In the morning, Mr. and Mrs. Sayoni found Phoebe’s lifeless body at the bottom of the
staircase. Nobody could say for sure what happened, but it seemed as though she had fallen
down the stairs during the night. What Phoebe’s parents did not realize at the time was that
tucked under Phoebe’s right arm was a small doll with one devious smile.