Young Readers: Then I did something I had never done before, SCREAM!

The terrifying gravestones of Highgate Cemetery were bent and battered, wind hurtled at my face, attacking my eyes like fire as I checked a text on my new mobile:

“THERE’S A DOLL OF YOU IN THE SHOP DOWN THE ROAD”

I had been getting these messages all day from an anonymous sender, I just had to find out what was going on!

I dashed down the road, recognising Brookfields as my old school. The new caretaker frowned at me as I ran past. I checked the time, 4:30. I peered into Holly Lodge, suddenly feeling an urge to check my watch again. 6:30. Time flies, but two hours?

I suddenly felt colder. I stared at my feet. My shoes had disappeared. A chill dashed down my spine. I ventured cautiously down the street, peering into each shop. No-one had obviously been here for a while. My teeth chattered uneasily. Tesco’s had been trashed and the contents inside shredded, not stolen. The butcher’s shop was full of dead horses and pigs rotting into piles of dung.

I began to run. To be honest, I was terrified. Suddenly something caught my eye in the old furniture shop. In the window sat a doll of me. I did something I had never done, SCREAM!! The doll was holding a phone, my phone, my number, my home screen, MY FACE.

Before I knew I was pulling at the handle in a crazy frenzy. Suddenly the door flew open and a cold breeze ran down my neck. Frightened, I stepped inside and looked at the pink chair where the doll had once sat. It had disappeared. Now it stood on the highest shelf. Suddenly I realised that the room was full of dolls.

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The doll that looked like me jumped off the shelf. I stepped back. All the dolls now started coming towards me. My heart was pumping, my legs started shaking. I started going backwards. I was stuck in the corner like a monkey in a cage. The dolls were surrounding me. They said “Hello”, I freaked out and answered “Hi”.

The only thing you could hear for the next few seconds was the sound of thousands of scrabbling feet. I stared hopelessly at the doll, unable to move a muscle.

Suddenly the doll spoke in a deep voice: “My name is Arthur”, then he lifted one of his long, spindly fingers to tap my head, like a wind-up toy. I grabbed the doll and threw it on the ground. It smashed into hundreds of pieces. The life was draining out of me like water being pulled down a plughole.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I tried to move, I tried with all my might, however, I found out why I couldn’t as I looked down. My unhuman feet were sewed into the ground! What was I to do? I was now a doll. They were now humans. I was trapped.

A pair of human arms shoved me into a box. Blackness. It seemed like an hour before I saw living daylight again. Fresh air!

“...Yeah, he’s really handsome, and only £3.00!”

“I’ll take him!”

I gasped, at least tried to, as I looked into the face of my mother.

“Funny! He looks just like my son!”