Creepypasta Collection Book 1

Lucy the Doll

Hello, my name is Eddie and I was told to write this diary by the nice man, who makes me feel calm whenever I feel bad. He said I'd feel better if I wrote down my feelings in this. Well, I don't know how I'm feeling; I feel alright I guess...So I don't know what feelings I should write about.

I'm fine.

Eddie is totally fine.

Fine.

Fire.

I like fire.

I like the heat.

I'm happy.

I'm very happy but people all over are sad.

Fight.

I want to fight.

Fight their sadness.

I want to pull it out of them.

I want people to be happy like I am.

Happy like Eddie.

Happy with Eddie.

Happy.

I wonder if the man who told me to write this diary is happy.

If not...

Maybe I can help him.

Maybe I can pull the bad out of him.

The man who gave me this diary read the first entry and said he's pleased with me expressing my emotions. I have no idea what he was talking about; I don't remember expressing my emotions there. Anyway, dear diary, let me tell you about myself, I'm living in this fancy hotel for a while now. A few years, I think...I don't remember. The staff says I can't leave. They say I'm not even allowed to leave my room on my own. I don't mind; however, I have everything I need. There are books, a nice ol' TV and even a laptop. I rarely use that...It's kind of hard for me to deal with the small buttons on the keyboard.

I'm kind of lonely, I wish I could talk to someone, but the hotel staff says I can't. They won't tell me why. They get angry when I ask them over and over. I don't like it when they are angry with me. It makes me feel bad. I don't like feeling bad because when I do, I can hear people saying sad things under their breath. They sound very depressed to me when I feel bad.

Good thing my sister shows up a few times a day to give me food and talk to me.

Well, she's not really my sister, but she's the only person who talks to me regularly.

She makes me happy and I find it funny how she always wears this white coat. I wonder why she keeps wearing it inside, it's pretty pleasant in here. I might ask her the next time she shows up.

Dear diary, last night you spoke to me.

You've said some nasty things.

It made me feel bad.

But you kept saying nasty things.

Really nasty.

Why would you want me to hurt myself?

Why would you want anyone to hurt?

I thought we were friends.

I guess I'm not going to sue you for a while.

It's been a while since I've written to you, my diary. Today was nice. My sister came to check up on me. I even got to hug her. Which is very nice. I've missed being hugged so much. I felt my eyes welling up when she hugged me. I felt like I was being hugged by Mom again. I couldn't help myself, and I asked her when I could see my parents again. I know, I know, she hates when I ask these kinds of questions. I don't know why, but I know she does.