halloween II

Victor's Story

Life is never easy... death is even harder. Believe me, I know. It all started when I when I went for that drink. I just meant to have the one, but you know how that goes, one drink turns into two, and so on. I really thought that I was okay to drive: I was wrong. I didn't see the little girl until it was too late. I'll never forget the sight of her, lying there in the road, her hand still clutching a doll. But looking around, I saw that no one had seen. I got back into my car and took off. I knew that it was the wrong thing to do, but I was scared. I'd be in big trouble if I got caught. I read about it in the paper the next day. The little girl didn't make it. They didn't have a clue how it had happened. I thought it was all over with, until that night while I was sleeping. I awoke to a tapping on the bedroom window...and saw the most frightening thing I have ever seen. It was the doll, the same one the little girl had been holding. It had blood on it's face, and a look of pure hate. I was sure that I was dreaming. I got up and went into the bathroom, got a drink of water, and went back into the bedroom. The doll was gone. I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought it must be the guilt of what I had done getting to me. I lay back down, but sleep was not to come. I thought maybe a drink would help, so I got back up and went into the kitchen. There it was again, the doll. Standing on the counter. I turned and ran out the back door. I ran blindly, not caring where I was going. I didn't see the semi until it was too late. So now I wander the roads, eternally doomed and pursued endlessly by that horrible figure, the doll.

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