Greg was a bad kid, and there was no doubt about that. His mother said that it was just a case of boys being boys, but the truth was, she didn’t want to see the faults in the child she had painfully had to raise on a single mother’s income, and without a father figure for the boy for the first six years. Well, life can be a bitch, but things usually look up. When Greg was just turning seven, his mother met a man and they fell head over heels for eachother, as lonely singles are wont to do; the man even accepted Greg as his son, and tried to be the male figure that he needed, but Greg wouldn’t have it.
Greg went on with his destructive ways, but his mother and her new husband stuck it out, worked through the stress of the bad kid’s ways, and ended up getting married. When they found that the mother was pregnant for the second time, they were ecstatic, but not for too long. Greg would talk about hurting the new baby, getting rid of it, and not wanting a little brother or sister, and this worried the parents. Before the baby came, they sat Greg down with a counselor to talk about his problems, but all he would say is that the baby’s going to wish it was never born.
When the baby was born, it was a moment of happiness in the generally stressful household. A beautiful little girl weighing a healthy 8 pounds, and boy, were the parents proud. The father gave her his late sister’s babydoll; a cute stuffed doll with plastic head, hands, and feet. The doll still smelled of vanilla since it had never been opened from it’s box. Greg stayed unusually well-behaved, and as the years passed, the parents beganto think that maybe it was just a phase and he’d finally grown out of it. Greg never mentioned it to them though, but the reason he stayed so well behaved was because he was afraid.
Not of his sister, or being in trouble, but of the doll.
Greg finally became bold and decided the doll was just a stupid toy. There was nothing to be afraid of, and he knew he wanted to get rid of that doll. Incidentally, it was also his sister’s favorite toy, so he thought if he could get her to scream and cry about it, then it would only be that much better. He snuck into her room while she was watching tv in the other room, and silently stole the doll from his sister’s bed. He then went to the kitchen and took a screwdriver out. He worked on it’s eye first, gouging and stabbing until he finally removed the left reflex eye, and decided it looked better with only one. Then he got a permanent marker and made creepy eyeliner and mouth grooves on it, like a dummy’s mouth. Greg finally decided it was time to show off his masterpiece, and lovingly called for his sister.
She came into the room, only to see her favorite doll, her best friend in all of her childhood years, so far, maimed and decorated like a sideshow freak. She wailed and screamed, getting the attention of her mother and father, who came storming into the room. This time was the last straw, and Greg had his ass beaten red, then sent to bed with no dinner. All he said in reply to the punishment was that he made her pretty. While he sat on his bed later that night, he thought it was all worth it. They’ll have to get rid of that fucking doll, and his sister will be devastated. He went to sleep with a sore and throbbing backside, but a smile on his face.
That fucking doll…
He had no idea what time it was, but it was definitely still nightime. It was unusual for him to wake up in the night, and rarer still for him to wake with the feeling he did. Something just felt wrong. He looked around his room for his maglite, and finally found it tucked in the crack between his bed and the wall. He switched it on and watched the shadows dance over the walls as he slowly swung it from one side of the room to the other. He would’ve turned it back off, but just as he was going to, he heard the sound of tiny feet on the wooden floor. A quick pat-pat-pat-pat ran across the room, and seemed to stop right next to his bed. He turned the light to see the face of the doll he had maimed, staring at him with on limp reflex eye, and an empty socket where the other used to be. Almost too terrified to breathe, he let out a small wimper and asked what the doll wanted. A voice responded in his head: You made me pretty, now I’ll make you pretty. Tears streamed down Greg’s face as he saw the screwdriver in the doll’s hand, and death came quick as it plunged into his eye.
Greg was a dead kid, and there was no doubt about that…
They found his body the next morning. He was missing his left eye, skin was peeled off portions of his face, and he was gutted then restuffed with what appeared to be his sheets and comforter. Sure, there was an investigation, but the police had no leads, and the parents knew that their six year old daughter couldn’t have done this out of revenge. Of course, they were sure to keep the doll out of view, for fear that it may arise suspicion against them. The funeral was closed casket, and the family, while polite, still didn’t make much of a fuss about the death. He was a bad kid after all, and bad things happen to bad kids.
