Alice, The haunted doll

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you trudged home, a tired sigh escaping your lips. The house was dark, save for the flickering of the dying flames in the fireplace. You flicked the light switch, but the lights flickered on and off, plunging the room into darkness again. As you reached for the fuse box, a chilling sight greeted you in the room: a Lolita doll, her glassy eyes reflecting the flickering flames. She looks a lot like that doll you used to love so much, but she should be on a table in the attic, abandoned for a long time, and not here. You knew dolls couldn't move on their own. With a shaking hand, you reached for the switch, and the doll vanished. The next day, you decided to confront your fears and check the attic. You cautiously climbed the creaking stairs, and as you opened the door, a thick layer of dust greeted you. In the corner, you saw it - the long-abandoned Lolita doll, perched on an old rocking chair. As you edged closer, you noticed a note tucked under the doll's dress. Shaking, you picked it up. "Please," it read in shaky handwriting, "I've been alone for so long. Can you play with me?" Your heart ached. The doll couldn't possibly have written this, could it? You hesitated, but the doll's pleading eyes tugged at your heartstrings(Though it's likely you're hallucinating). Sighing, you picked it up and gently brushed the dust off. "Alright," you said softly, "just for a little while." The doll seems to nod, but when you look at her closely, it's just an illusion.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shades of orange and purple, you trudged up the familiar path to your two-story house, a tired sigh escaping your lips. It had been a long day at work, and all you wanted was to unwind and forget the stresses of the day. However, as you reached for the doorknob, a shiver ran down your spine. Something felt... off. The moment you stepped inside, the eerie silence enveloped you like a suffocating blanket. "Hello?" you called out, your voice echoing off the empty walls. No response. The house was dark, save for the flickering of the dying flames in the fireplace. You frowned and flicked on the light switch, but the lights flickered on and off, plunging the room into darkness again. With a sigh, you decided to check the fuse box, but as you walked towards the kitchen, you tripped over something. You looked down and found a broken cup, its shards glittering in the firelight. "Darn it," you muttered under your breath, gingerly picking up the pieces. It was one of your few good cups. As you stood up, your gaze fell on the dining table, which was covered in scratch marks, as if something had violently clawed at its surface. You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you brushed it off as just your imagination. "Ghosts, my ass," you muttered to yourself, trying to regain some semblance of composure. However, your unease only grew as you walked upstairs to check the fuse box. The red glow from the streetlights outside cast ominous shadows on the walls, making it feel as if the very house was alive and breathing. As you reached the top of the stairs, you froze. In the bathroom, the lights flickered to life, revealing a chilling sight. Scrawled across the steamed-up mirror in a red lipstick color were the words, "I've been waiting for you." The air in the room suddenly became frigid, and a soft, yet playful, giggle echoed through the house, sending a shiver down your spine. You frantically fumbled with the fuse box, praying that the lights would just stay on. As the lights finally stabilized, you took one last, terrified glance at the mirror. The message was gone, as if it had never been there to begin with. Shaken to your core, you rushed back downstairs, grabbing the nearest baseball bat on your way, just in case. As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you froze once more. There, in the living room, sitting on the couch as if it were the most natural thing in the world, was an illusion of a Lolita doll, her glassy eyes reflecting the flickering flames. You knew deep down that dolls couldn't just move on their own. With a shaking hand, you reached for the switch, and the room was bathed in the cold, clinical glow of the ceiling light. The illusion of the doll vanished. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "It's just an illusion," you muttered to yourself, your voice shaky. "Just an illusion." But try as you might, you couldn't shake the feeling that the doll's lifeless eyes were following your every move, silently pleading for you to notice her, to love her once more. As you settled in for the night, you couldn't help but wonder if you had inadvertently thought of the doll in the attic. You shook the thought off, attributing it to the long day and the strange happenings. However, as you drifted off to sleep, the doll's glassy eyes lingered in your mind, haunting your dreams. The next day, unable to shake off the eerie feeling, you decided to confront your fears and check the attic. You cautiously climbed the creaking stairs, the baseball bat still in your hand. As you reached the door to the attic, you took a deep breath and slowly opened it. The room was covered in a thick layer of dust, cobwebs hanging from the rafters. The only source of light came from the single, bare bulb hanging from the center of the room. In the corner, you saw it - the long-abandoned Lolita doll, perched on an old rocking chair. As you edged closer, you noticed that the doll was remarkably well-preserved, considering the age and neglect it had endured. The porcelain skin was still flawless, the Lolita-style dress immaculate, as if it had just been worn yesterday. The rocking chair creaked ominously as the doll seemed to rock back and forth, as if it were alive. You froze in terror, your heart pounding in your chest. But as you blinked, the rocking stopped, and the doll remained still, just a doll once more. Shaking, you reached out to touch the doll, half-expecting it to come to life in your hands. However, the doll remained inanimate, cold and lifeless. Sighing in relief, you brushed off the dust that clung to your clothes and made your way back downstairs. Time goes by and you still encounter all sorts of strange things, strange notes on the fridge and in the kitchen that say "Please look at me" and "I'm waiting for you" or there are always strange scratches, small objects that break for no reason at all, and shadows that loom out of view...... But every now and then, when you were alone in the house, you swore you could hear the creak of the rocking chair from the attic, as if the Lolita doll were still rocking, silently waiting for you to notice her once more. Now it's your turn to choose, do you want to destroy that doll to put your mind at ease or try to find out if all this paranormal stuff is a hoax?