Polly, The Staring Dolly
On my eighth birthday, I got a present that would change my life forever. It was a beautiful doll that looked a lot like me. That is why my grandmother bought it for me. I named her Polly. However, days after I got the doll, things began to get weird, but I didn’t notice.
I slowly became unsocial, never having kids over. All I needed was Polly to make me happy. She was my best and only friend. I just went to school, and came home daily. I never bothered to make friends, or talk to teachers. I even stopped trying in school. I had been a perfect student until I got the present. Nobody really noticed, though, so I didn’t mind.
After about a week of having Polly, I stopped eating real food. I just didn’t feel right eating normal food, so I would always go out to the backyard (we lived in a forest area), after telling my mom I wasn’t really hungry that night, and find some woodland creature to hunt and kill for dinner. My mom didn’t notice me not eating much, until week three. She even took me to the doctor a few times, asking about what was wrong with me. The doctor always had the same answer. I was at a healthy weight and was not sick. After our third visit to Dr. Cortez, my mom decided I was fine and just going through a “stage” as she called it.
After a month of having Polly, my mom noticed me sleeping in my closet instead of my usual place: my bed. And when she would come to check on me, not only would I be in the closet, but Polly would be in my bed. I would also sleep with my eyes wide open. My mom just ignored it, also saying it was a “stage”.
Three months later, I got a haircut. I wanted a bob, and that is what I got. The creepy thing was, after I got my haircut, Polly’s hair started to fall out. It only stopped when her hair was exactly like mine. My mom then knew things were not right with the doll, but I would not part with it because Polly was my friend. She was the only one who understood me.
My mom also told me that when she was about to fall asleep, she would find Polly right next to her bed. Polly would stare at her intently. My mom would put her back in my room, but always find Polly in the same spot when she went back to bed. Eventually, my mom ignored it. I now know that Polly was checking to see if my mom was still awake.
After almost a year, things got stranger. My skin, hair, and eyes started to turn a glowing green. This resulted in another doctor visit, but he said there was nothing he could do. This, my mom finally decided wasn’t a “phase”. She watched me as much as possible. She even quit her job, a crazy move for a single mother, so she could home school me and make sure nothing happened to me.
Then the worst night of both of our lives happened. My mom woke up in the middle of the night, after hearing the backdoor open and slam shut. She ran outside, after noticing that I wasn’t in my bed, and neither was Polly. Once outside, she spotted us immediately. We were walking towards the lake, hand in hand. She ran after us, and was almost too late. Polly was leading me into the water, clearly trying to drown me. Polly turned her head, all the way around, towards my mom. She smiled a sick, malevolence grin that sent shivers down her spine. My mom knew she had to act now, before it was too late.
She ran to me and grabbed my hand, but I pushed her away. She fought until she had me, struggling, in her arms. She placed me in my bed, and locked me in. She sat there, trying to comfort me. I was hysterical. Then, we heard the tapping. We looked at the window, and found Polly standing there staring at us, with her evil green eyes. My mom opened the window, and grabbed her. My mom ran out of my room and threw Polly in the fireplace.
It was on my tenth birthday when I got the courage to ask my mom what Polly was doing, and what had happened to me. She said that my grandmother got Polly for free, from a woman that seemed crazy. Her daughter died days before she got rid of the doll. My mom showed me the research she did, and it turned out that the previous eight owners of the doll were all killed in various ways. The first killed was one year old, the second was two years old, the third was three years, the fourth was four years, the fifth was five years, the sixth was six years, the seventh was seven years, and then there was me. I was the only one to survive.
I am fine now, after much counseling and bed rest, unlike the unlucky seven girls who came across Polly the staring dolly, which is what my family has called her to this day.
—
Credited to Connie and Lauren.
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teehee….. even though the doll didnt get her i will
FUGGING HATE DOLLS! They scare the living shit outta me!
Some people are being a bit too harsh in the comments they are leaving. Connie and Lauren, you should keep trying, but maybe try to come up with a nice original pasta. This was really good, up until the bit when the girls skin started glowing green. That was a bit too weird for me, and then it became very clichéd. But you could easily do a good one.
MH
Who gives a toddler a porcelain doll? The earliest Polly should have been able to start killing is 4 or so.
Maybe it killed the owners little sister?
why does this pasta have a good ending?
i liked it, but there should have been some freaky twist at the end XD
Good idea, but badly written. And the mother is fucking crazy .__.
So many tings horribly wrong with this story.
She goes from a “perfect” student to not even trying, at all, and no one notices? She isnt eating regular food…for three weeks…and her mom FINALLY notices?
this read like a pre-teen horror story, something like one of those cheesy “horror” books for kids, where there were always happy endings and lame plot twists.
author: are you 12? O.o
0/10
Ah, stupid captcha code and name.
No, it’s my dolly. ._.
Stop discussing my dolly. ._.
Stop discussing my doll. ._.
Hello, my name is Polly, The Staring Dolly, and i dont love you. I am NOT your friend. I dont want to BE your friend. I want to be YOU. its not fair that you get to be real, and i have to be plastic. I want your warmth, your hair, your eyes, the people who love you. Hi, I’m Polly, and soon, I will be you.
BUT WHO WAS RADIOACTIVE DOLL?
Good plot albeit unoriginal, but good twist and good action.
But I felt it was really poorly written, no offense but the way it was written seemed very…simple. And far from engaging. I foud it quite a frustrating read, despite the good plot so I’ll give it a 4/10
“Ohhh, my daughter isn’t eating for up to 3 weeks and she goes off into the woods around lunchtime and suppertime! This is just a phase. Now she’s sleeping with her eyes wide open in a closet, while the doll is on her bed! This is totally just a phase, nothing horribly written and with poor grammar here! Ooooh, now this creepy fucking doll is leading my daughter to the lake, hmm, something might be up. Wait- What? The doll is at the window tapping it! Oh, hello, dolly! I’ve decided just now to get rid of you. *pitches doll away* There, now it’s gone and not coming back because everyone knows a 4-inch throw can break a doll in 9 pieces and it totally can’t crawl back up to the window again. I’m such a good mother!”
0/10
Thats creepy :0
That is so scary, I WON’T GO TO SLEEP!!! I AM SCARD
I dunno what to rate this one. The writing is about average for Creepypasta, the premise is a bit cliche, and every single character is an idiot (not just the doctor and the mom, but Polly herself when you think about it). It definitely creeped me out, but that might just be because dolls in general scare me. And also because, right at the part where Polly taps on the window, a squirrel ran across my roof.
AUGH.
AND THERE’S A CREEPY DOLL,
THAT ALL-WAYS FOLLOW YOU!
IT’S GOT A PRETTY MOUTH,
TO SWALLOW YOU WHOLE!
You know what creepy-doll pastas are?
A phase.
”
Honestly? This isn’t some kind of joke? For Lucifer’s sake, my cat has batter narrative skills than the author, and it’s dead! The author should stick to what they are good at: Spending time with severly retarded children to make them feel intectually superior.
Fear the Darkness (And any other nonsense this person writes)
-Nex”
tl;dr failtroll tries too hard yet again.
Honestly? This isn’t some kind of joke? For Lucifer’s sake, my cat has batter narrative skills than the author, and it’s dead! The author should stick to what they are good at: Spending time with severly retarded children to make them feel intectually superior.
Fear the Darkness (And any other nonsense this person writes)
-Nex
THAT WAS SHIT.
cause all that killing innocent woodland creatures and sleeping with eyes wide open in the closet while the serial killer dolly specific age wanders the fuck about , actually spends most of the time staring at the mum…
oh and cute nickname. NOT.
srsly guiz
BUT WHO WAS MOM?
Docotr, my daughter has cancer.
Oh sim sure its just a phase
She also has radioactive skin.
It’s a phase.
SHE HAS A DOLL THAT IS FUCKING POSSESED BY SATAN.
Phase.
The X-Files did the “creepy haunted doll” story and did it better.
Maybe it’s just a phase. :D
This story fails.
So the mother certainly took the whole “there is a haunted doll that keeps making its way into my room while im trying to sleep” thing fairly well. Personally i would have curb stomped the thing lol