A
Anonymous
Guest
DP
Here's a oddly creepy story that happened to me some time around 1995, in San Francisco.
My wife and I, along with our 5 year old son and our new baby, shared a single bedroom and loft near the beach. The bedroom opened directly to the livingroom, and had no door. One night, I came home from work, walked through the living room towards the kitchen where my wife was cooking dinner. Our older son was in the backyard, the baby was asleep. As I passed the bedroom, I noticed a new addition to my wife's collection of stuffed animals. A large, (at least three foot tall) Raggedy Ann doll sat on the bed, facing the bedroom entrance.
I didn't think anything about the doll was odd, at first. I walked to the kitchen, said hello to my wife, and made some small talk. After a moment or two, I asked where she had gotten the new Raggedy Ann doll.
My wife looked at me blankly. She had no idea what I was talking about. She gave me a look as if there were large lobsters crawling out my ears! I repeated myself, but she still didn't understand, so I dragged her to the bedroom doorway to show her the doll.
There was no doll. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. Less than 5 minutes ago, a rather large Raggedy Ann doll had been there, and no one could have moved it, as they would have had to walk past me to get to the bedroom.
The more I thought about what had happened, the more freaky the whole scenario seemed. The doll had been looking right at me, with those big, black, empty Raggedy Ann button eyes. The doll had been watching me, smiling in the way for which that type of doll is famous.
I have no explanation for this occurance. If I were to have hallucinated a stuffed animal, what on earth would have made me see that doll? Why not a bear, a cat, or any number of animals? Raggedy Ann dolls have a distinctive look, and are not easily mistaken for another doll.
I have never been able to look at Raggedy Ann (or Andy) quite the same since then. These dolls now creep me out, and probably always will!
Here's a oddly creepy story that happened to me some time around 1995, in San Francisco.
My wife and I, along with our 5 year old son and our new baby, shared a single bedroom and loft near the beach. The bedroom opened directly to the livingroom, and had no door. One night, I came home from work, walked through the living room towards the kitchen where my wife was cooking dinner. Our older son was in the backyard, the baby was asleep. As I passed the bedroom, I noticed a new addition to my wife's collection of stuffed animals. A large, (at least three foot tall) Raggedy Ann doll sat on the bed, facing the bedroom entrance.
I didn't think anything about the doll was odd, at first. I walked to the kitchen, said hello to my wife, and made some small talk. After a moment or two, I asked where she had gotten the new Raggedy Ann doll.
My wife looked at me blankly. She had no idea what I was talking about. She gave me a look as if there were large lobsters crawling out my ears! I repeated myself, but she still didn't understand, so I dragged her to the bedroom doorway to show her the doll.
There was no doll. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. Less than 5 minutes ago, a rather large Raggedy Ann doll had been there, and no one could have moved it, as they would have had to walk past me to get to the bedroom.
The more I thought about what had happened, the more freaky the whole scenario seemed. The doll had been looking right at me, with those big, black, empty Raggedy Ann button eyes. The doll had been watching me, smiling in the way for which that type of doll is famous.
I have no explanation for this occurance. If I were to have hallucinated a stuffed animal, what on earth would have made me see that doll? Why not a bear, a cat, or any number of animals? Raggedy Ann dolls have a distinctive look, and are not easily mistaken for another doll.
I have never been able to look at Raggedy Ann (or Andy) quite the same since then. These dolls now creep me out, and probably always will!