• I remember that one night I had to stay at my Aunt Janice's house. She lived deep in the country, far away from any large city. I was a city kid. Video games and the internet were my hobbies at the age of thirteen, and I was pained when I had to leave them.

    For the first night in the two story house I was forced to stay in my cousin's old room. Her name was Sierra, and she had passed away last year. She was four years old, approximately, when she fell from the window on the second floor. Her bed was nice and comfy, but I hated the decorations she had.

    Every shelf in the room was lined with dolls. Not the new Bratz and Barbie dolls, the baby ones whose eyes are perfect circles and seem to follow you around. All four walls were covered with the shelves they sat on, and even the bed had one above the pillows where one doll sat. It was the only bald baby doll in the room. They were all completely expressionless.

    We had mashed potatoes and gravy that evening and I decided to go to bed. I crawled under the warm blankets and the sheet and shut the nearby lamp off.

    The dolls were staring at me, all of them. All four walls seemed to look down at me... completely expressionless. I covered my head in the blanket and tried to sleep, but couldn't. I got up and turned the lamp on. After I stood, I looked back at the maniacal doll that sat above my head. It was dressed in pink baby clothes and seemed to be facing me. I turned around and tried to open the door, finding that it was locked. I pounded on it, my heart beginning to race. "Someone want to let me out of here?" I asked.

    My spine shivered at the thought of the baby dolls watching me, the sounds of their malevolent laughter ringing through my head. I turned back around to the doll to find that it was no longer on the headrest, but was on the pillow. It looked up at me, smiling. "What the hell?" I whispered to myself. I turned around to the door and pounded on it some more. "Someone let me out of here!" I shouted. I turned back around, and the doll was further down the bed, and it seemed another doll had moved from the shelf by the window to the window sill. Its hands were on the lock to the window, just barely touching it... It had blonde hair like Sierra did...

    I slammed on the door. "LET ME OUT, DAMN IT!" I shouted. The door opened and my older sister stood there, laughing. I fell to the ground, eyes widened in fear. "Why the hell did you lock the door?" I asked.

    "I thought it'd be funny." she replied. She looked over me and saw the expressionless dolls in their places. "Playing with dolls?"

    "No." I replied.

    "Then explain that." she demanded, playing with her long, brown hair.

    I tried to find words to explain what just happened, but couldn't. "I don't know how that happened, but I am NOT sleeping in there again,"

    "Fine, I'll sleep in there tomorrow night, you big baby." she replied. I went with her to the living room and tried to sleep on the floor while she was on the couch. I had no luck.

    The next night came. After dinner we headed to bed, saying our good nights. She went upstairs and I stayed on the couch. I thought to myself what I might be able to do to entertain myself, so I want upstairs and locked her door. I then went back downstairs, too tired to stay up and hear her reactions, and passed out.

    The next morning I awoke to ambulances outside, my mother jerking me awake. "Son, there's something wrong. We're going to the hospital, your sister is seriously hurt."

    The worst possibilities came to mind. I bolted upstairs and unlocked the door, opening it to find the most horrific image I have ever seen.

    Every doll in the room was on its shelf, only their heads were facing the now open windows... well, most of their heads were. All of the babies were smiling widely, like they were amused by the open window. I looked over to the top of the bed to see another baby doll... only with long, brown hair, just like my sister's. It smiled maniacally, a far larger smile than any of the other dolls. It pointed to the pillow, and on the pillow was a piece of paper. In dark, blood red ink, were these words...

    "Rock a bye baby, on the tree top, Please save me, someone. Just make it stop..."

    I looked away from the writing and bolted over to the window to look out and see what happened. I watched the EMT's zip the body bag over my sister's face. The last thing I ever saw of her was her blank expression... much like a doll... There was a slam behind me. I turned around to find that the dolls were all facing me and the door was closed... Not even the closed door could handle the weight of my fearful, angry body knocking it down.

    I made sure we never visited Aunt Janice's again.