My story may be solved but not yet resolved.
A few months ago my grandmother passed away. Emphysema… she was a pretty heavy smoker. Besides smoking, her hobby was scene building with 12 in. by 12 in. dioramas. She was highly skilled and made one for every scenario she could think of. She gave her children a scene and each of her grandchildren. But her prized possession was the dollhouse.
This dollhouse was huge, four and half ft. tall, three ft. wide, and three ft. deep. She hand painted the outside siding and shutters, laid the roof with little shingles just like a real house, and had miniature furniture and plants on the front porch framed with crisp white railings. The inside was even more spectacular. Each room was set to the theme of the roaring 20’s with a small family of a mother figure in the elaborate yet time appropriate kitchen and dad and the little kids in the pallor listening to an old timely radio.
All of these rooms were immensely detailed and had taken my grandmother years to build and perfect. So when she passed, the dollhouse became an heirloom for one of the grandkids. The lucky grandchildren that got it? It was me. My older cousin Jen was overly jealous I got the house, I always thought she had a few a screws loose.
I was still deeply upset about losing my grandmother but thrilled to bring this part of her legacy home with me. I already planned where to set it in my room as I am in my late teens and still live with my parents. My twin sized bed sat tucked against the side wall with the window and a small table between the head of the bed and front wall. I set the giant dollhouse atop this table and left enough floor space to see all around it.
As I stepped back to admire the doll house once more I noticed the little rocking chair within the decorated living room start to gently rock back and forth by itself. My heart skipped a beat until I realized my window was opened and the gentle breeze was the culprit. I laughed it off and shut the window. I remember breaking the lock some time ago from sneaking out. I had gotten caught and Jen laughed in my face then so now I’m not so sorry about inheriting the dollhouse.
All seemed fine for the next few days until the first incident happened.
I had closed my bedroom door for the night and fallen asleep around 10 pm and set the timer on my TV to turn off at 11.30 pm. I’m not sure what woke me, but I was sure it was the wee hours of the morning as the TV was off and the room was mostly dark. I was incredibly groggy but still was about my wits to notice a very soft yellow hue shining from behind me.
I sat up and turned around to see all of the lights inside the dollhouse were on. Being a superstitious person this put me on edge. I didn’t even know the dollhouse was wired for lights. But knowing my grandmother, it was surely possible. I slowly climbed out of bed, tripping and catching myself on the bed post. I should probably clean my room.
I walked around the dollhouse to the backside, bumping into the closed window, to search for some kind of off switch. Lo and behold there it was hanging from the ceiling on the third floor in one of the children’s bedrooms. I clicked it off, traced my exact previous footsteps feeling my way back to my bed in the pitch black and climbing safely back into bed. I fell into a rocky sleep.
Over the next few days I had convinced myself I had accidentally and unknowingly hit that little switch in the moving process and hadn’t noticed with all of my lights and television on in my room. Easy enough. This next incident is a little harder to explain.
Once again my room was drowned in the black of night and I was sleeping comfortably in bed. For all I know it may have been around the same time as last time but again I woke. Not for no reason though. My old fashioned wind up alarm clock that sat snug in its place on the window sill began to ring. This little clock used to sit right next to me in bed but I found forcing myself up to turn it off better prevented me from going right back to sleep.
Once more groggy and trying to rub the sleep from my eyes, I sat up to turn towards the clock to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. Before I could remove myself from bed, a black hand reached out from the dollhouse, and turned off the clock.
I covered my mouth before I could let out a scream and then dove under my covers whimpering. My heart was racing and my body was shaky and sweating. I felt nauseous and dizzy. What the fuck was that??? I stayed hidden under my blanket and tried to reason with myself. This is a dream or… or I’m half asleep and seeing and hearing things. I have too much pride to run screaming for my mommy and daddy at 17 years old. There’s no such things as ghosts…
I tried my best to calm myself and try and get back to sleep. The less I make of a situation, the less it will affect me, right? The only problem is I never “woke up”, because I never fell back asleep that night. I eventually got out of bed when the sun came up, got dressed and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind me.
I ended up making a bigger deal out of it than I had planned to. I avoided my room for the next two days and opted to sleep on the couch in the den. During those few nights I had slept with the TV on which convinced me I should just do the same with my room. I convinced myself more and more that I was being ridiculous. The doll house it NOT haunted.
So on the third night I planned to go back into my room to sleep with that damn dollhouse. Only this time I had purchased a small, 1 and a ½ in. round, bundle of slow burning sage for extra reassurance. I lit the end and placed it in a glass bowel on top of my dresser after a once around tour of the room. I turned the timer on my TV off and let the light from the screen illuminate the room. I eventually fell asleep.
It couldn’t have been too much longer, I could still smell the sage burning when right before I reached full REM I was jolted awake from the sound of a… bell? My eyes flew open but my body stayed at rest. I took a few deep breaths and tried to evaluate the situation as best I could in the dark… I remembered I left my TV on, did I not cancel the timer correctly?
I kept my breath as steady as I could and closed my eyes trying to ignore everything. I shivered from freight and the gentle wind of the ceiling fan. Then dread came over me as I peeked up to the ceiling and noticed the fan was not moving. With wide eyes I scanned the dark looking for the source of this wind when I froze seeing a dark figure in the corner.
My heart was in my throat, I couldn’t breathe. My internal fight or flight instinct was failing me. The figure, tall and looming, inched closer and closer to me frozen in my bed. As it reached down for my arm, my wits came flooding back and my fight ignited back to life!
I kicked the covers high up blinding it and did my best to push the figure back. Whatever it was, was solid, this fucking thing was real! I screamed as it swung its arms wildly in the dark, upper body wrapped in the cover. I was pushed and tossed into the dresser on the opposing side of the room. Atop sat what was left of the burning sage in the glass bowl and I grabbed it.
The figure again walked towards me again, covers long gone, as I began stabbing the sage wildly in the dark. The only thing I could hear were my own screams until this thing shrieked. It made a noise! I took this chance the drop the sage and turn back towards my door opening it and running to my parent’s room.
I didn’t need to plow through their door as they were already heading my way down the hall. I fell into my mother’s arms crying and telling her there was something in my room. She held me close as they both tried to calm me down. My father, baseball bat in hand, flicked the hall light on and told us the stay put.
I watched in fear as he slowly crept down the hall then pushed my bedroom door open with great force, turning the lights on, ready to attack whatever was in there. He lowered the bat and turned back to me, “there’s nothing in here.”
Though choked sobs I asked, “What about everything all over the ground?” I clearly remember knocking things over in my flailing panic.
“Other than the usual crap on the floor I don’t see anything out of place…”
I cautiously step forward towards my father in the bedroom doorway. Ten paces later I peer in and see not a thing has been disturbed. The sage is in the bowl atop the dresser, the covers lay bunched gently on the bed, the TV was on, and even the clock sat in its place on the window sill.
“I it was just a bad dream,” my dad whispers to me.
I am stunned and confused looking into my room. What kind of demon is this? Is it really haunting me or is it haunting my dreams?
My mother takes my hand in hers and starts to guide me away and to the den, “How about we sleep on the couch together tonight?”
I agree and leave my father to turn out the light and TV then closed the door behind him.
We had turned the TV on in the den and my mother was fast asleep. I was not. I stayed awake for the rest of the night.
When day light broke my mother rose from her spot to begin cooking some breakfast and getting dressed. I followed her example by returning to my room for fresh clothes. I slowly pushed my bedroom door open to see that again, nothing had been moved. Even with the daylight creeping into the room from the window I still turned the light on and grabbed some clothes to change in the bathroom.
Within the hour we ate and drove over to my departed Grandmothers house. Although we had sorted most of her possessions, there were still some things to go through. This would be the first time going back to the house since bringing the dollhouse home with me. Maybe my grandmother’s spirit is imprinted on the doll house and maybe she wasn’t trying to hurt me. Whatever the case, it happened, I know it did!
We arrived and noticed my aunt’s car in the driveway. She and my cousin must’ve gotten here a bit earlier than us. We slowly walk into the home and my aunt greets us with a smile and a “good morning!”
Suddenly there’s an air around me that’s mentally suffocating. I turn around to Jen, in sweatpants and a hoodie, and a fresh inch and half burn mark on her fucking face.