Here's a writing contest entry thing-a-majig I did for a contest between me and a few friends...
Writing Exercise
Storms are knocking down your windows, and you decide this is the best time. Come up with a scary story that will be so terrifyingly horrifying, that it will be told around the campfire for many years to come.
The Leather Doll
By Anjali Kunapaneni
There once was an old woman living in a rickety old house with a thatched roof that kept having the need to be repaired. The woman, with her fluffy white hair and many creases among her somewhat pale face, had a granddaughter. This granddaughter would be celebrating her birthday soon, and, though poor, the old woman set her mind to buying her granddaughter a birthday present.
So, the old woman set off one day to the marketplace, looking for the perfect gift. As she strolled past the crowded and expensive shops, she came upon a rundown little shack barely noticeable to the eye of a passerby. Sitting, or rather, sleeping behind the scraped up wooden counter, was a middle aged woman with her gray hair tied up, revealing the many beads and tribal necklaces strewn around her thick neck.
She had dark circles around her eyes, and her hands were wrinkled and dirty. Her hair was caked with mud. As the grandmother reluctantly grew closer to the shop, the woman woke up, and quickly wrapped her hair back in a lavender bandana, pulling the strands of charcoal hair back, making the many lines folded into her otherwise soft face less crude.
The grandmother walked up to the counter, and the woman frantically brushed through her hair with her fingers, trying to get the dirt out. “What is it you want?” the old shopkeeper asked impatiently. Troubled by the shopkeeper’s attitude, the grandmother explained that she was on a search for a nice gift for her granddaughter’s birthday.
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened as if she had been struck with a wonderful idea. “I know just what you need!” She exclaimed. The shopkeeper turned and rummaged through the mess, while a doubtful look remained on the grandmother’s face. It seemed the shopkeeper got excited very easily.
After searching through piles of mismatched items, the shopkeepers finally came up with a small, leather doll. At first, the grandmother wasn’t sure, but then, something seemed to lure her closer to the doll, a magnifying force.
Without realizing it, the grandmother had bought the doll, and the next day transferred it from her own wrinkled hands to her granddaughter’s.
The granddaughter’s name was Lucy. Lucy was a polite, kind girl, with curls of raven black and eyes of the purest blue. She had rosy cheeks, and always had a wide smile on her face. Her bubbly laughter was contagious, and she was well loved, by both family and friends.
It was her ninth birthday, and she was beaming with pride. Lucy was showered presents, and she hadn’t felt more important than she had that night. Just before the birthday party, her small grandmother stumbled in the door, shivering from having only on a thin shawl, while it thundered outside.
“I brought you a gift.” The fragile woman smiled. “Oh, Grandmother,” Lucy cried. “You shouldn’t have!” The grandmother’s smile widened. “But I did.”
The grandmother took out a small box from behind her back, and presented it to Lucy. Lucy thanked her, and eagerly opened up the box. Inside she found a leather doll.
She wished it weren’t true, but truthfully, Lucy felt disappointed. Compared to all the other fashionable dolls with their many outfits and poses, this plain leather doll seemed practically invisible.
Yet the doll turned out to be Lucy’s favorite. With it’s brown, ragged dress and button eyes, most would find the doll somewhat unlucky. But Lucy found it fascinating. The doll was made from the softest of leather, softer than a cotton ball, softer then the fur of a kitten. And Lucy found that when she pressed against it right arm, it would say phrases, such as, “I love you, Mommy,” or “Take care of me, Mommy,”, even though Lucy could’ve sworn she had squeezed that arm before and had no such result.
The leather doll soon became Lucy’s most trusted companion. During the cold winter nights, the doll made Lucy feel warm and safe, and was taken everywhere with Lucy. But strangely, ever since the doll was delivered to Lucy, she had been having the same nightmare over and over again.
A strange man with a terrible scar running down his face was after her, and by each night, by each dream, he was getting closer.
One night Lucy dreamed that night that the scarred man was bounding down her street, looking for her. She woke up in a cold sweat and quickly ran up to her window to make sure he wasn’t there. Lucy sighed with relief to see there was no one out there.
The leather doll suddenly squealed, “Help me, Mommy!” without Lucy even squeezing her arm. Lucy was bewildered, and something drew her to look out the window once more. She did, and she screamed.
Bounding down the cracked pavement was the scarred man, with his ragged suit and long, ragged black hair. He had a wild look in his eyes, and he looked absolutely savage. “Take care of me, Mommy! Save me, Mommy!” the doll cried.
Lucy heard the front door open, and then slowly close. Footsteps. They grew closer and closer. The stairs creaked, and the footsteps were now stomping down the hall.
Lucy backed up against the wall, clutching the doll. She squeezed her eyes shut, and the man entered the room.
He was even more savage looking up close, and he the aroma of death and decay around him, and Lucy was paralyzed. She knew she should’ve ran, or have called 911, but she couldn’t. She was struck with fear.
The man held out his hand, and it came closer. And closer. Until finally it snatched the leather doll out of Lucy hands. Electrifying shock went through Lucy’s body as she realized that was what the man was after the entire time.
The man held the doll, and looked at it for a moment with pure hate. Then he ripped the doll apart, just as it cried, “Help me, Mommy! Save me….” The sounds of the seams ripping apart were like nails on chalkboard, and, taking the two pieces of leather, the man placed them on his chest and on his back, where they fit perfectly on large scabs.
The man then walked away, away from the house, away from the street, away from the city, away from the country, away from the world. He had crossed to the other side.
For, in truth, the crazy old shopkeeper had murdered her husband and, using the remains of his skin, made the leather doll.
