Night Time Story: The Doll That Followed Me Home

It started with a single step.

At first, Olivia thought she was imagining it. The doll sat on her shelf, its glassy eyes staring forward, its painted lips frozen in a soft, knowing smile. It had been a gift from her grandmother, but Olivia never liked it. Something about it felt… off.

Then, one night, she noticed it was no longer on the shelf.

It sat on her desk instead. Closer.

She frowned. Had she moved it? She didn’t think so. But maybe… maybe she had.

The next night, it was on her chair.

Then by the door.

Each morning, the doll was closer to her bed.

Olivia’s heart pounded as she picked it up, staring into its glassy eyes. “Who’s moving you?” she whispered.

The doll didn’t answer.

That night, she locked it in the closet. She pushed a chair in front of the door. She barely slept.

When morning came, she let out a sigh of relief. The closet door was still shut.

But the doll was sitting on her pillow.

Right next to her head.

She screamed.

By the time her parents ran in, the doll was back on the shelf, looking innocent, untouched.

No one believed her.

That was the last night Olivia slept in that room.

And though she never saw the doll move again, she always felt it watching. Waiting.

And every now and then, when she wasn’t looking…

She swore it had taken another step.

By Lenora Graves