By: Judith Graves
People often ask me why I choose to write horror/paranormal stories. And I usually give them a standard reply: I love a good scare—I’m a fan of mythology and folklore. Rarely do I get into the nitty-gritty details.
Until now.
When I was thirteen, an unlucky age for so many reasons, a visiting aunt gave me a spectacularly wrapped present. About two feet long and a foot wide. The rectangular box could have contained anything. My aunt was from away. Surely she’d have brought me something amazing!
Looking back, I know she thought she was being generous, kind, aunt-like even. She was just trying to bring a smile to the face of a girl she barely knew, but was tied to by blood. That she didn’t know anything about me was painfully obvious as I unwrapped the present. A hush fell over the room when the gift was revealed.
A beautiful, lifelike doll stood in the box encased behind a clear plastic lid. Her eyelids flickered as the box dipped in my trembling hands. I dropped her to the floor and her eyes closed as if she were asleep. Or dead.
My aunt rushed forward to scoop the doll up. “Good God, be careful! She’s made of porcelain. An antique.”
Covering over the awkward silence and my pronounced lack of appreciative gushing, my mother assured my aunt that I was overcome by the generosity of her gift. As she told the lie, my father, leaning in the kitchen doorway, a silent observer as always, gazed at me with concern.
You see, I’d had a fear of dolls as far back as the family could remember, especially old dolls with aged, knowing faces and eyes that rolled back in their heads. Dolls so lifelike you could almost hear the faint gasps of their breathing.
For the entire duration of my aunt’s visit I had to sleep with THE DOLL propped up on my dresser. My mother insisted, not wanting to offend her older sister (the one who was only visiting us because she had to come to town for a funeral and didn’t want to pay for a hotel). When mother insisted, there was no plea-bargaining.
My father saved the day—marginally. “She should keep it in the box,” he announced. “We wouldn’t want it to get wrecked.” After the sisters left on a shopping expedition, he helped me seal the edges of the doll’s box with duct tape. She was locked inside. Or so I thought.
I’ll never know exactly how the doll ended up on the floor at the foot of my bed the last night of my aunt’s visit. I had jerked awake at the sound of a crash, and there she was, illuminated by the three nightlights my father placed in each plug around my bedroom. The doll had burst through the confines of her box and lay sprawled on the cold hardwood floor. Amazingly, she was in one piece with her head turned in my direction, staring at me with a strange gleam in her eyes. A hungry, I’m-going-to-get-you gleam.
Suffice to say everyone in the house charged into my bedroom, sure it was a burglar, an ax murderer, or a fire, at the very least. I had no control over the sounds of terror that ripped from my throat. I remember my mother apologizing to my shocked aunt, and guiding her back into the hall. I remember my father’s grim face as he stuffed the doll into a black garbage bag that magically appeared in his hands. I remember my aunt hugging my brother and sister—but not me—before she got in her car the next morning and drove away.
But mostly I remember those eyes. Those ancient, evil, hungry eyes. And that, my friends, is why I write about things that go bump in the night—because certain events can’t be explained and those are the ones that haunt me. So much so that I write about them and struggle to fabricate my own explanations.
In my writing, I share them freely. For what they’re worth.
Under My Skin by Judith Graves Publisher: Leap Books (March 27th, 2010) Reading Level: Young Adult Paperback: 328 pages Series: Skinned, book #1 All her parents wanted was for Eryn to live a normal life…
Redgrave had its share of monsters before Eryn moved to town. Mauled pets, missing children. The Delacroix family is taking the blame, but Eryn knows the truth. Something stalks the night. Wade, the police chief's son and Redgrave High's resident hottie, warns her the Delacroix are dangerous. But then so is Eryn--in fact, she's lethal.
But she can't help falling for one of the Delacroix boys, dark, brooding--human Alec. And then her world falls apart.
A normal life? Now that's the real fairytale.
Second Skin
- book 2 in the Skinned series -
will be out sometime in 2011.
Prize:
- 1 winner will receive a Under My Skin necklace and character card, a Class of 2k10 postcard, and some gothic"Death Mints".
Rules:
- You must be at least 13 to enter.
- Name and email must be provided and counts as 1 entry.
- Extra entries are possible and links must be provided.
- Contest is INTERNATIONAL and ends October 29th.
- Once contacted the winner will have 48 hours to respond with their mailing address.
- The form must be filled out to enter.
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