Little Clown Doll

*Little Clown Doll*

Story Promt
POV - inanimate object + A Child + hiding in the dark

(A/N: This is true. All true. The little girl was me.... I was terrified because that doll would glow in the dark. I kept it in the closest, in the bottom of a box, and would watch the closet each night, after checking all over my room before bed just to make sure the doll wasn't out of the closet, untill I fell asleep. When I say pure white, I mean no color pigmentation like normal skin color. More like ALBINO white.)

I have an odd owner; of course I am quite odd myself, but my owner hides not *from* the dark, but *in* the dark.

It could be because my owner is afraid of me.

You wouldn't think that someone could be afraid of a doll. You'd be wrong. My Owner is afraid of me, a doll.

I'm not just any doll, though. I'm a clown doll. I also glow in the dark.

That is why my owner is afraid of me. I glow in the dark. She thinks that I look like a murdering clown that she saw in a movie once.

That is just an excuse though, I know the truth.

I was with her before she ever watched the movie. She has always been afraid of me.

Since I glow in the dark, she hides in the dark. Just because she doesn't trust me to not come after her, I know that because she talks to herself.... *A lot.*

I was a present from her grandmother; My head, hands, and feet are plastic, I have neon blue-green hair, a pink little hat with a white daisy on it, and my face is painted happily. I have pure white skin and like any other baby doll my insides are stuffed.

She watches a lot of scary movies.

She's watched one where a teddy bear was possessed and killed both of the children under the bed.

She doesn't like her bed to be off the ground.

She's watched a movie where a guy in a mask kills everyone.

She doesn't like sports.

She has nightmares of her mother yelling at her.

She wakes up crying at night because of it.

She dreams of dancing skeletons and dancing zombies.

She laughs at those dreams and wakes up with a smile.

She would rather play on the game console, than play with dolls.

When she does play with dolls, she will play with every doll but me.

She will even pick teddy bears over me.

I sit alone and unwanted in her closet.

I watch and I wait.

I see her go through the plastic doll stage.

I see her go through the pokemon stage.

I see her go through the gameboy stage.

She goes through school and picks up reading.

She draws some, she writes some.

Now, she sits on her computer all day when she has the time.

I just wish she would play with me.

For a time, I know am forgotten.

I am put in a box, left in the attic.

I can hear little laughter downstairs in the main part of the house.

I can hear the stairs being lowered.

I rest in the box, under some stuffed animals, next to little pink pony.

I can hear her going through some boxes, picking out toys for the boys downstairs.

I have no hope of being considered by the child that was afraid enough to hide in the dark.

To hide in the dark and disregard all other nighttime terrors.

Just to be afraid of me.

A hand reaches into my box, takes out a toy, and my hand is left in sight of the light in the attic.

The hand reaches in to take mine.

I'm being pulled out by that same little girl, not so little anymore.

She smiles a sad smile, for grandma is gone, and remembers the times when she was afraid.

She holds me close, and mutters "I still hate clowns."

She clothes me and keeps me in her arms, and looks for more toys.

"I'm sorry, little one."

I can hear her whisper.

She never gave me a chance when she was little.

She takes me downstairs and hands me to a little boy.

Her nephew screams in delight, and hugs me tight.

I am loved.

I am happy.

My world is just right.

For that little child no longer hides in the dark.

She fears no nighttime evil.