Haunted: The Doll (Day 3)

I took hold of both zippers that topped my backpack, one in each hand, and slowly eased them apart. Sprawled across the top of my books was a tiny bundle of noisome green-gray rags.

"Mom!" I yelled.

She appeared in the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on a dish towel. "There's no need to shriek, I'm right here. What do you need?"

I used the toe of my shoe to tip my bag over, spilling the rag doll out into the hallway. It slid to a stop like a dead ice-skater. "What is _that_ doing in my backpack?"

"Oh I put it there so you wouldn't forget it. I'm sure Stephanie and Joy are going to want to see your new toy."

"No! I told you I've been trying to get rid of this thing. Why aren't you listening to me?"

A crease appeared in her forehead. "I'm sorry, Honey. I don't remember you saying that at all and I think I'd remember if you did."

Her face blanked as if it was a chalkboard and someone had wiped her expression away. Then her eyes lit up. "What's your new doll doing on the floor? Let me get that for you."