I remembered that Mom was looking for my sister and asked if they chatted. Elsie shook her head. I explained that Mom wanted to speak with her before sending her on her way. I gently pushed her out of said kitchen and watched her sprint down our narrow hall until she was out of sight. I would have returned to cutting had I not noticed the open door. The basement door was open.

I could have sworn that it was closed. And that is when the problems began. It was not the basement itself, but what was in it.

I scrambled to said basement and peered down. A chill crawled down my spine. Pitch black and cold. I did not dare go down. My paranoia got the better of me. I shut the door and locked it. I had never been more thankful for a lock. I did not recall the door being open. Dad did not open it because he was at work. Mom and Elsie did not do it. So who did?

Another chill went down my spine as I started walking back to the kitchen. What if a robber - or worse - broke into our house? Thieves can be quiet. What if he or she was hiding in the basement and left its door open? The person might be waiting until we all leave or are sound asleep. Or the person is waiting for us to descend to do who knows what. If I stayed at the top of the steps long enough...would this person pull me in?

I stopped in my tracks and put my hands on my belly. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Chill, Eliza. An open door is nothing to be worried about. Maybe Mom or Elsie opened it without me noticing. Yeah. That is it. My silly imagination.

I uttered a yelp when I heard a creeeaaak noise. I spun around and clenched my fists. The door was open once more. Now I knew that somebody - or something - was in the basement. But how did it unlock the door?

I shouted to Mom and slammed the door and locked it again. I pressed my back against the door with my legs and arms spread out. I was on edge. I breathed heavily and waited for my heart to escape my chest. I looked at the phone in the kitchen and considered contacting the police. But I was paralyzed with fear. I gritted my teeth and prayed that I was wrong. I was afraid that the door would open a third time.

I heard footsteps in said hall. It was Mom. She laid her hands on her waist and said that she met Elsie's snake. She shivered and added that she could keep the reptile as long as it never escapes its tank. She then asked why I was blocking the basement door and not cutting.

"Sorry, Mom. Elsie and this door have been distracting me."

"How so?"

I explained everything - except my paranoia. This door opening despite being locked from the outside. It could not have opened on its own. And that Elsie left her doll in the kitchen and lied about it.

Mom raised an eyebrow. "Was this doll's hair blonde - and not creepy?"

"Yes to her hair. No to the creepiness. She is the cutest doll that I have seen."

She gazed down the hall, and then back at me. "I could not agree with you more - except that the doll does not belong to Elsie."

I pushed away from the door and frowned. "She lied to you, Mom. She told me the same. It is obviously a lie."

She bought her fib. I saw it in her eyes. "She is serious, Eliza. She hardly lies. And why would she lie about the doll not belonging to her?"

I tucked a hair strand behind my ear. "You know Elsie, Mom. She refuses to take responsibility for leaving her dolls scattered around here. She almost forgot one at a store."

She put a hand on her forehead. "You are correct about that. I will confront Elsie about it. But I do believe your sister when she says that blonde-haired doll is not hers and that she has never seen her."

"Then how did the doll end up on the kitchen floor?"

"I do not know, honey. I wish that I knew, but I do not. But I will talk with Elsie again and hopefully straighten this mess out. Or maybe I should wait until your father returns home."

"I would confront her now if I were you, Mom."

"I will now if you keep cutting the veggies and fruits."

"Deal."

When she turned the corner, I eyed the basement door and raised my fists, preparing to fight. I am no fighter. Despite that I am paranoid, I do not know exactly how to defend myself. Yeah. I am an idiot. I believe that it is because I do not want to. I do not want to learn how to defend me and my family. It makes my paranoia all the more real. I do not want to have to protect us. I did not want to think that a stranger was in our basement. But I would have to protect the family.

What I discovered in the basement forever changed me and Elsie.

Thud!

There was that sound again. I looked over my shoulder - and spotted the doll. The blonde-haired doll. She was behind me - and gazing at me. She sat on the floor with her back against the wall. Just like last time. Elsie. She must have snuck behind me and placed the doll here to scare me. It was payback for telling on her to Mom.

But I was not scared. I grabbed the doll. It is one of the few things that I am not paranoid about. A living doll. I was not afraid of dolls.

Until I saw her home.