My Poor Beloved Doll

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It’s been a long time since this happened so please excuse me if I forget to mention something that happened.

I’ve dealt with multiple paranormal things in my life, from a ghost of a little girl to some sort of hate feeding demon. But this story I’m about to tell was sorta close to me. I used to have a haunted Krusty doll. A little backstory, since I was little I have always loved watching The Simpson, my favorite character being Bart for his antics and his twist since of humor when it comes to watching cartoons.

So when I had found a Bart doll along with Krusty the Clown and a Marge in an antique mall that was outside of my town, my Mom had said i could pick two knowing I loved the show so much. I had picked Bart and Krusty, cause for what ever reason Marge was missing her dress. I have had these dolls for years and never noticed anything strange about them until I was 14 or 15 years old when my life started getting really hard. Having to move a lot, my parents fought and my Mom and sister treated me like shit and I had developed a really bad problem. I was so incredibly lonely and hurt I would go to my plushies for comfort.

Snuggling them or just having them near me while I played video games would make me feel better. So as my 15th or 16th birthday started getting closer my Mom asked my what I wanted so I told her I wanted a plushie on Dr. Eggman from the Sonic the Hedgehog series, cause he was my favorite.

After a month or so I had got him in the mail. Then, of course, I had added him to the collection I had on my bed. But things started getting weird after this. I would find my new plush in other places like on the floor or under my bed and even sometimes across the room. One night I just held onto my new plush, cause I was tired of having to find it ever mourning. But when I woke up I was holding onto my Krusty and my new plush was at my closet door on the other side of the room. At this point I was a lot more aware of paranormal activity with this doll.

I started leaving the doll on the other bed that was in my room, but when I’d come back it would either be fallen over, on the floor in between the beds, or back on the bed I slept on were it used to sit. Currently, I don’t have it in my possession due to moving so much I had left it in storage. The storage place sucks so I won’t be surprised its been eaten by rats now.

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