Ek WEDNESDAY aisa bhi hota hai :P

“A chill running through your veins” is how the age old term “NIGHTMARE” is defined as .For some, it’s like approaching their death sentence, for some, its outright ridiculous & for some it’s like the twisted thrill they’ve been longing for.

Somehow ghosts and supernatural creatures have started to garner a friendlier and empathizing approach for the past few years thus forming the latest cult of mutual obsession between a mortal and an immortal. And then we have our worst fantasies coming back to life .Scary Possessed Barbie Dolls. A recent incident seems to have only increased my detestment towards these “too gorgeous to be soothing“looking toys.
Being a fan of the horror genre, the descendants of Count Dracula  and Dr. Frankenstein  have always fascinated my mind .No matter how much  flesh, blood and gore they invest themselves upon, there is something very tragic, romantic and gentlemanly  about the way they hunt down their prey. But possessed toys? There is a sinister factor that tends to send you over to the edge, makes you want to scream your lungs out in a toe curdling way, go for the closest heaviest weapon you could lay your eyes on and wish upon the stars to beat the “Mother Of Lord” out of them.

Anyways, this is how deranged my Wednesday turned out to be. A small family get together was taking place inside our grandparent’s age old bungalow, when I found this junk-trunk padlocked in the backyard. Always having the bad habit of snooping around where I strictly should not, proudly almost smugly, I found the key to the lock without letting anybody know .With the Sherlock Holmes in me winning over before I could reassess my handiwork, curiosity peeking in an almost uncomfortable level, like a 9 year old about to open her Christmas present, I unlocked the trunk & my god, I found,




NOTHING.

Amidst that useless pile of Garbage Island, I found this pink, a little too big for its size, Barbie doll, dressed up in shimmery objects, blonde, smiling and almost looking like the next Cinderella. It was in a little ragged condition but good enough to be given to our maid’s seven year old daughter, is what I thought .So I picked it up, cleaned & placed it inside the showcase for the time being .Little did I know, I just dug my own deep pit of Hell.

After all the merriment died down for the day, while retreating back to my room, I saw that the showcase was open .Not paying attention to that little detail, I went on minding my own business. As my head was about to hit the sweet comfort of the pillow, my eyes caught the sight of the raggedy doll lying down right there. While recovering from my mini-stroke, giving it a zero thought, I went & placed it back inside the showcase.
In the wee hours of the morning, I felt something poking, almost grabbing my toes, tugging them. Annoyed, I got up & saw the doll now sitting upright near my feet. Again paying no heed, with sleep hooded eyes and a cranky mood now, I went back, placed it inside the case and took an angry oath to plant a tight smack at the back of my brother’s head because only he could have pulled such feather ruffling, soul rattling pranks on me at the middle of the night. Only when summoned, he and his punch drunk sleep laden look said that one word that had my mind reeling to the worst most unimaginable scenarios,

“WHAT!”

Ingrained with the quality of over imagination, this one got the worst of me making me feel totally and completely disoriented, trembling like a leaf at an ungodly hour, truly believing what I have always made fun of. Dragging my brother out of his slumber party, I explained him this freaky predicament in one line, “BRO, THE DOLL’S POSSESSED ". Off-course that earned me an expected guffawed laugh from him for the next 10 minutes (I can see the hilarity he found in this situation) advising me to tone down my love for horror movies and series.

Little did we know that by that time, the doll had already made her presence known by turning our living room upside down & I mean LITERALLY. To top it off, by the time I noticed, brother was already back , snoring off to his lala land and I was left staring at the flabbergasting message “FOR YOUR EYES ONLY ” painted all over the wall by our creepy potential killer house-mate. Time like these when I should be screaming for help, I stood there, absolutely immobile, wondering and questioning certain logics like “how do ghosts write on the walls and mirrors? Do they learn it somewhere? Do they have superpowers where they can just copy pretty much anything and everything? Do they walk or fly? “.

Throwing me out of my musing was the sudden sound of my family waking. With my ears perked up and spirits lifted with relief, I turned to rush back upstairs and alarm them about the unnatural situation we have gotten into, only to be stopped by the doll. To my utter horror, I noticed that her hands have grown big and dangly, approaching in an inhuman speed to wrap around my legs and throw me back down .While flailing with fear, I found the nearest most non sharpest weapon, grabbed it and started beating her up with all my might. To my glee, she face-planted on the floor giving me the brashness I need and started to whack her more ruthlessly, only for her to turn her head around in an eerie way .

With a menacing cold grin on her face, grabbing my still attacking weapon with her big grubby hands and throwing it somewhere out of my reach, she starts approaching me in a leopard like pace fixated in hunting down her prey.






And that’s when I woke up to the rude awakening of my alarm!