The Doll’s Eyes

The Martin family was excited to move into their new house. It was a beautiful old home in a quiet town, surrounded by tall trees that rustled gently in the breeze. For Mr. and Mrs. Martin, it was the perfect place to raise their two children, Sarah and Jake. The house was spacious, with large windows that let in plenty of sunlight, and the backyard was big enough for the kids to play in all day.

But there was something strange about the house. In one of the upstairs bedrooms, they found an old wooden chest left behind by the previous owners. It was covered in dust, and when Mr. Martin opened it, the whole family gasped. Inside was a collection of vintage dolls, each dressed in beautiful, old-fashioned clothes. The dolls were made of porcelain, with delicate faces and glassy eyes that seemed to sparkle in the light.

“Wow,” said Sarah, her eyes wide. She loved dolls and couldn’t believe how many there were. There must have been at least a dozen, all different sizes, with different expressions. Some looked like they were smiling, others looked more serious, but they all had one thing in common: their eyes. The eyes seemed so real.

“These are probably worth a lot of money,” Mr. Martin said, carefully closing the chest. “But we’ll leave them here for now. Let’s get settled in first.”

The family spent the rest of the day unpacking boxes, setting up furniture, and making the house feel like home. By the time evening came, they were exhausted. Sarah and Jake were given the room where the chest of dolls had been found, but neither of them seemed to mind. They were just happy to finally have their own rooms.

That night, as Sarah lay in bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about the dolls. She had asked her dad if she could keep one, but he said they should wait until they knew more about them. Still, she couldn’t help but be curious. She tiptoed over to the chest and opened it quietly, taking out a doll with long brown hair and a frilly blue dress. Its eyes were a deep shade of blue, almost like sapphires.

Sarah smiled and placed the doll on the shelf next to her bed, its eyes staring straight ahead. Feeling satisfied, she climbed back into bed and closed her eyes.

But as the moonlight crept through the window, casting eerie shadows on the walls, Sarah felt like she was being watched. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. Everything seemed normal, except for the doll. Its head was slightly turned, and its eyes seemed to be looking right at her.

Sarah sat up, her heart pounding. Had the doll moved? She shook her head. It was just her imagination. She lay back down, but sleep didn’t come easily.

The next morning, Sarah told Jake about the doll.

“It’s just a doll,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “You’re probably just tired from all the moving. Don’t be silly.”

But as the day went on, strange things started happening. At breakfast, Mrs. Martin couldn’t find her favorite mug. She always left it in the kitchen, but today it was on the floor, broken into pieces. “I don’t remember dropping it,” she said, frowning.

Later, Mr. Martin swore he heard footsteps upstairs, even though everyone was downstairs. When he went to check, no one was there. And Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling that every time she looked at the doll, its eyes followed her. She moved it to a different shelf, but later, it seemed to be staring at her again.

By the third day, the strange events were impossible to ignore. Doors would creak open by themselves, and lights flickered for no reason. Jake, who had laughed at Sarah before, now seemed uneasy as well. He hadn’t touched the dolls, but every time he walked by the chest, he felt like something was watching him.

One evening, while the family was watching TV in the living room, there was a loud crash from upstairs. They all jumped.

“What was that?” Mrs. Martin asked, her face pale.

Mr. Martin grabbed a flashlight and headed upstairs with Jake. Sarah followed close behind. As they reached the hallway, they saw it. The chest, the one that had held the dolls, had fallen over, spilling the dolls across the floor. But that wasn’t the worst part. The dolls… they weren’t lying still like toys should. Some of them were sitting upright, their heads turned towards the family, their eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“I… I didn’t touch it!” Jake stammered.

“No one did,” Mr. Martin said, his voice shaky.

Mrs. Martin, who had followed them upstairs, gasped. “What is going on?”

They picked up the dolls and put them back in the chest, locking it tightly. But the unease lingered. That night, Sarah could barely sleep. She kept her eyes on the shelf where she had placed the doll earlier. This time, she was certain it was different. The doll’s head, which had been facing forward, was now turned to the side, its eyes looking directly at her.

The next morning, the family gathered in the kitchen, everyone looking tired and scared.

“We need to do something about those dolls,” Mr. Martin said firmly. “Something isn’t right.”

They decided to contact the previous owners, hoping for an explanation. Mrs. Martin called the real estate agent, who managed to get in touch with the former residents. What they learned left them all shaken.

The previous family had moved out in a hurry, leaving behind most of their belongings. But the dolls? They had been left on purpose. According to the previous owners, the dolls had been in the house for generations, passed down from one family to the next. But over the years, strange things began happening. They, too, had felt watched, heard noises, and saw the dolls move on their own. The last family believed the dolls were cursed, and they had been too afraid to take them when they moved out.

“We thought leaving them behind would get rid of the curse,” the former owner had said, her voice trembling over the phone. “But maybe… maybe they’re tied to the house.”

Mr. Martin hung up, his face pale. “We’re getting rid of them,” he said, determination in his voice.

That afternoon, the family gathered the dolls and packed them into boxes. They drove out to a nearby dump and left the dolls there, hoping that would be the end of it.

For a while, everything seemed to go back to normal. The strange noises stopped, and the house felt like a home again. But one night, a week later, Sarah woke up to a familiar feeling. She looked over at her shelf, and her heart stopped.

Sitting there, in the same place as before, was the doll with the sapphire blue eyes, staring right at her.

The Martin family never spoke about the dolls again, but they couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how far they tried to run, the dolls would always find their way back. Something about those glassy eyes was too powerful, too alive. And in the stillness of the night, when the house was quiet and the world was asleep, those eyes watched, waiting.

For the Martins, it was clear—the dolls were never really gone. They were simply waiting.

Disclaimer: This story has been generated by an AI. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The content is for entertainment purposes only and does not reflect any real-world situations or entities.