This story a part of the True Ghost Stories page on Obiwan's UFO-Free Paranormal Page. Please do not copy or distribute without permission from Obiwan and/or the original author!
Date: Wed, 21 Oct 1998 13:19:37 -0700 (PDT)
To: guestbook@ghosts.org
address anonymous
As far back as I can remember, strange occurances, sounds, objects missed placed, footsteps, shadows, and overwelming cold presences were as common as brushing your theeth in this house I grew up in. The house was built in 1937, a quaint area of Louisville, Kentucky, close to the banks of the great muddy Ohio River. The house stands two stories, constructed of red brick and full of haunting tales recolected from my early childhood until this present day.
I was no older than eight years old, the smell of fresh pine filtered the air from the newly purchased Christmas tree standing 7 feet in our living room corner. My mother, frantically making her last minute preperations, asked my neighboring friend Christina and I to run up into the attic to search for some wrapping paper. I was reluctant on this deed. The attic was dark and dismal, full of skeletal cob webs, a place feared most by a young child. I only would agree to go if Christina would go along. She said "Oh, Cara theres nothing to be scared of. I'll go in first, I'll show you theres nothing in there that will get you." Christina had been my friend since kindergarden, always the dareing one, always the fearless tom boy. She marched up the stairs, with me slowly following behind.
We approached the attic, a small carved out wood door in a dusty hallway that is adjacent to a vacant bedroom. She opened the door, we crawed inside the dark cave of a room, rummaging through boxes in search of the wrapping paper. I came across an old porcelain doll, with golden curly locks, and dressed in a velvety red cloak & white lace trim.
Before I could reach down to pick her up, her piercing glass blue eyes opened, left arm extends forward towards me, eyes close, and arm fell back down to the floor. Christina had seen the same thing while sitting beside me.
We ran out of the atttic screaming. Shot straight down the stairs to the first floor to tell my mother what we had seen. She persisted we were just silly, that our minds we playing tricks on us. She dragged us back to the attic to prove to us it was simply a doll. We entered the room, to find no doll .
I never again played with dolls. To this day, I have not gone back into the attic. Christina and I still remember what we had seen that winters day and know that it was a true experiece with the unexplainable.