Tales from beyond the grave (short horror stories) [On Hold for now]

My Doll

Everyone loved Hana. They loved her baby blue eyes, her golden blonde hair, her sweet voice, her shapely legs, her slim waist, her soft hands, her dainty feet. The way she cheered for the football team while doing backflips and cartwheels, graceful as a ballet dancer. Everyone loved Hana.

And everyone hated me. They hated my baggy dresses, my messy, hair my stutter, my blackened nails, my scruffy shoes. They laughed and pointed fingers. They whispered and gossiped and snickered as I walked down the hallway flanked by lockers. I could hear their quiet chatter. I could hear their hatred. And the one thing they hated more than anything was my doll. 

"She is seventeen! Why is she even playing with dolls?!"

"Don't you know? That's her only friend."

"Does she even know what its like to have a real friend?"

"She doesn't even talk."

"She is like a doll herself."

"Dumb as a doll."

"Dead as a doll."

Laughter. Laughter. And more laughter. 

They laugh because I never talk back. They laugh because I always hold onto my doll. 

They were laughing that day too. And the one who didn't laugh was Hana. Because I was too low to get laughed at by Hana. Hana just stood and watched. Watched and despised. The look in her eyes was of pure disgust. As if she was seeing a rat crawling out of a sewer. Beautiful, beautiful Hana, casting her disdain upon me. 

Hana and her pretty friends, staring at me with contempt. Hana and her worshippers laughing at me. Hana and her groupies insulting me like I was born among the pigs. Hana. Hana. Hana. It's always Hana!

She stood blocking my way to the class that day. "It's about time you gave up that doll and started acting like your age." Hana said, surrounded by her pretty friends.

I clutched my doll tighter, biting my lip nervously.

Hana scoffed. "You deserve to get laughed at. You are so stubborn. So dumb. Don't you have anything to say in your defense?!"

I just clutched my doll tighter.

"Answer me, you pig!" Hana raised her voice.

The other kids were gathering around us, converging around me. Why won't they leave me alone?

"Answer me!"

"Answer her, you filthy pig!"

My fingers were digging into my doll's neck. Don't do it. Stop. Stop. Stop...

"You are seventeen! Can't you speak yourself?!" Hana yelled. 

My grip on my doll's neck got tighter. Stop yourself. Don't do it. Don't do it!

Hana slapped me. "Answer me!" She slapped me again, my face burned in pain, in shame. "Answer me!" She raised her hand again and swung at me again.

I caught her fingers between my teeth this time and bit down hard. Hana gasped, tried to free herself. I bit harder. Hana cried out. My own fingers were clutching my doll with all my strength as I sank my teeth deeper into Hana's soft skin. 

Hana screeched in agony. One of her pretty friends punched me in the jaw. My teeth ripped away a sliver off Hana's pretty fingers. I was knocked down to the floor, Hana's blood dripping from my lips.

Hana gripped her wounded hand, sneering at me. I tightened my grip on my doll. Hana's blood trickled down my chin, landed on my doll's forehead. Her cotton skin turned red and damp. I smiled at Hana. 

They all glared at me, sneered at me. I kept smiling. With one strong jerk, I ripped my doll's head off her neck. 

And that's exactly when Hana's pretty head rolled off her shoulder. Everyone gasped. Everyone stepped back. Then I started laughing. 

Laughing at Hana's severed head, lying in her own pool of blood, staring at me with a gaping mouth and her big eyes confounded. I laughed and laughed and laughed and when I ran out of breath I looked at them all and said, "Why is everyone so quiet? You're seventeen. Can't you speak for yourself?"