I gripped the edge of said counter. I feared the worst. I always do. I am not courageous like my sister, which is embarrassing. It is why she is never disturbed by those dolls. I am not scared of them. I know that they are not alive. I do not believe in the supernatural. But they are creepy. How is Elsie comfortable with their glassy eyes staring at her?

Like I said, I am not a believer in the supernatural. But I am paranoid. I cannot help it. I hate being out during the night because I feel like that I am being watched. It does not help that I listen to scary stories. I enjoy scary stories - but I always worry about me and my family. A person breaking into our house. Or shooting up a place where I am at. Or stalking me. People are sick.

Mom dropped the knife and took a step back. I hurried around the counter and asked if she was okay. She was holding her wrist and hissing. Maybe she was having a heart attack or a stroke. Anyone can suffer from them. I could be having them now!

Mom turned around on her heels and held out a finger. She walked to the paper towels and ripped one off. She pressed it on her finger and faced me. "I am fine, Eliza. Thanks for asking. I was clumsy enough to cut myself."

My heart slowed. "You cut your finger?"

"Yep. Thankfully, the cut is not deep."

A long whoosh of air escaped my mouth. "Such a relief. And I was thinking that you were having a real medical emergency, like a heart attack or a stroke."

"Oh, no. I would not be standing if it was one of those."

I wiped my forehead. "When you uttered that horrified gasp, I—"

"The gasp was not because I cut my finger."

My eyebrows shot up. "It was not?"

Mom crumpled the paper towel into a ball and threw it in the trash. "I gasped because your father and I forgot to clean the basement yesterday. We were so busy that it slipped our minds."

I popped another veggie piece in my mouth. "You guys never mentioned that you were cleaning the basement. Why does it need to be cleaned? It is not cluttered. We got rid of the junk last year. And I have not spotted any rats since last month."

Her eyes bulged from their sockets. "A-a rat is living in our basement?"

"I am unsure if it was living there. But it will not return because the snake ate it."

"A snake is living in our basement?!"

"Not since that Elsie made it her pet."

"When did Elsie have a pet snake?!"

"Two weeks ago. I am surprised that you and Dad have not noticed."

She took off her apron and put it on the counter. "I will have a word with your sister. You mind cutting the rest of the food while I am gone?"

"Not at all."

"Thanks."

I did not begin until she disappeared from the kitchen. I decided to wash my hands. It was not until I finished that I realized how thirsty I was. I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water and ice. I took a sip. Thank the Lord for water.

Thud!

That sound startled me. My heart pounded against my chest. I almost choked on the water and turned around and placed said glass on the counter. I saw nothing out of the ordinary and figured that the house was settling. Then my eyes fell on the wooden item. It was not there earlier. At least, I do not think.

Sitting against the wall was a doll.

I walked to the doll and picked her up. She was not the creepiest doll. I did not remember my sister having the doll. Then again, I do not keep track of her dolls. There are so many that it gives me a headache. I called to her and tossed the doll on the counter. I started cutting the fruits and vegetables.

Elsie waddled in. She was holding a doll by the wooden arm. "You called?"

I stopped cutting and pointed at the blonde-haired doll as a long whoosh of air left my nose. I get annoyed that she leaves her dolls around the place. "You left a friend in the kitchen."

She hugged her doll to her chest. "I did not leave a doll in here."

My eyebrows narrowed. "You are such a liar."

"Why would I lie about not leaving one in our kitchen? I have not been in here since breakfast."

I pointed at the spot where said doll sat. "Your doll was sitting right there. I saw her. She looked at me with her glassy eyes."

She squinted at her. "She is not mine."

"What do you mean that she is not yours? She is in our home. You are the only one here obsessed with dolls."

Elsie covered her doll's ears. "I told ya to not speak like that in front of my dolls."

I slammed the knife down and snatched the pretty doll and stormed to her. "I am done, Elsie. So done. I never will play your games again."

"What games?"

I shoved the doll in her hands. "I am sick of pretending that your dolls are alive. And I am tired of you treating them more human than your own family. I was hoping that it was a phase, but it seems like that you will never get over it. I will not be stunned if you marry a dummy and have puppet babies."

She stuck out her tongue. "I hate dummies."

Now I was stunned. "You do?"

"Yes. They are super creepy. Their painted grins do not help. And they are twisted. They make your life a living nightmare until they kill you or make you their slave."

Famous last words.