By: Alicia Chen

A young girl with pigtails the color of gold sat on the floor, playing with her dolls. All but one of them were beautiful, with their rosy cheeks and perfect porcelain skin.

The one doll that was deemed “ugly” was often neglected. Nothing was left of her once-beautiful lashes, and there were marks all over her laced, velvet-colored dress. On her wrist was a small bracelet with a bell. Whenever she was moved, it would make a distinct tinkling sound.

Eventually, the little girl decided to get rid of the ugly doll. She did so by holding an “execution.” She hung the doll with a shoelace and scribbled with red marker all over its face. The pretty dolls had to watch so that they knew what would happen if they ceased to be beautiful. The ugly doll

was then thrown into the back of a closet to be forgotten about.

Nobody mentioned her or mourned her.

Years flew by, and the young girl with pigtails evolved into a graceful young adult.

One day, as she was packing her items to move away, she found the doll. Her hair was tangled like a bird’s nest, her eyes filled with craze that hadn’t been there before. The velvet dress was torn and ripped, revealing bits of her delicate body.

The only artifact of hers that remained unharmed was her bell.

As the golden-haired young adult picked the doll up, the doll’s small body seemed to buzz with a sort of negative energy, craving for revenge.

The ugly doll and other items were tossed in the back of a moving truck.

When the young adult arrived at her new residency, it was late at night, so she decided to unload her things the next day and sleep on the floor in her sleeping bag.

She was woken in the middle of the night by a soft tinkling sound. Across the room laid her doll, face-down on the floor. Confused, she tossed it into the dumpster and fell asleep again.

The next day the doll was still sitting in the dumpster. The young adult assumed that she must have brought the doll in with her and forgotten about it.

After a few months, she had fully set up the house and was living comfortably.

But one night, as the young adult was sleeping, she felt a prickle on her neck. Upon opening her eyes, she saw a horrifying face only inches away from hers. It was the ugly doll, looking more torn up than ever. Much of its hair had fallen out, leaving prickly bald spots. Gaping holes pierced her

dirty face. And on her wrist, sat the bell.

Mortified, she smashed the doll and burned what remained of it.

A few days later, after shutting her lights, she heard raspy breathing coming from under her bed. She lay stiffly, paralyzed with fear, only to see, moments later, a small child crawl from under the bed. The child was holding a kitchen knife and a rope. She approached the young adult, who

let out an ear-splitting scream.

The child tied the rope around her neck, choking her, and watched with satisfaction as she writhed in pain on the floor. The little child then began to glide the knife across her body, drawing blood. Almost like a kid scribbling on paper with a marker.

The last thing the young adult heard was a cold voice whisper, “You’re not very pretty,” followed by the sounds of a bell, growing louder and louder.