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 The case with the dolls was ordered to be removed from the house and sent to some kind of museum or someone who collected them. The records weren't clear. However, when they tried to move the case, it seemed to be stuck to the ground, and no matter what they tried, they were incapable of moving it at all. The dolls were said to have been caught moving a little, shifting to stare at the workers when they would come close. It was said that once you were caught in the dolls' stare, you were unable to move and didn't really want too. One worker said he took one of the dolls home with him, because it found it pretty and thought his daughter may like it. It was one of the older ones that was located on the bottom shelf of the curio cabinet. A picture was accompanied with this particular part, showing an extremely old, well preserved porcelain doll with ringlets of hair that I knew, even by a black and white photo, was a golden blonde. I didn't remember seeing that particular doll when I was there, but there was really only one that had caught my eye, so maybe that was why. After a week, the worker was admitted into a mental hospital, after supposedly never giving the doll to his daughter. It was said he was found in his room, after missing several days of work, sitting in a corner talking to the doll. He screamed and cried when he was taken away from the doll, saying "I need her!" over and over again. Chills went down my spine again, freezing me to my core. I was definitely throwing that fucking doll in the trash, and then setting it on fire. Fuck that. I stared at the picture of the dolls and noticed that, maybe I did remember more about the dolls than I thought. It seemed like some of the dolls in the picture were gone, but the dolls were shifted, moved down, to make room for a few new ones. I shivered, noticing that the doll that was currently sitting in my closet was not pictured in any of the photos. That meant she was a new addition. But why? And how? Who was taking the dolls and replacing them with new ones if no one was ever recorded to enter the home except those who were never seen again. Were there other workers who had maybe changed them out? I didn't understand and it was driving me crazy. Maybe even literally. This was exhausting. I found Brennen after sweeping the room with my eyes a couple of times, and walked over to him. "Hey, I think I'm gonna go. Not really feeling it tonight." "What?! This was your idea!" he exclaimed. "I know bro, and I'm sorry. Thought it would help, but it's not. I can call an Uber though. You stay and have fun. I'll talk to you tomorrow or something, okay?" "You sure?" he asked, glancing over to the girl that he had been talking to before I had interrupted. I grinned. "Yeah man. Stay. See you later." "Alright bro, I'll hit you up tomorrow sometime." I looked around for Corey but he still looked like he was having a great time, so I left alone. I waited on the sidewalk until my Uber showed up. The driver tried to create small talk but I just wasn't interested. So, after I answered a few questions of his, I put my headphones in my ears, indicating that I didn't want to talk. When I got home, no one was there. There was no telling when they would be home and I was fine with that. I grabbed my laptop from my room and came back down to the living room to listen to one of my playlists while I scrolled my phone. Didn't really want to be in my room, knowing the doll was in my closest. I still planned on getting rid of her, but, like, in the daytime. After I stuck my headphones in my ears, I opened my browser back up and started reading where I had left off. The article had links to a few other articles but they all held the same information. Then I came across the man's name that had taken the doll and was now in a mental hospital. His name was George Hampton. He was now 79 years old, still living in the hospital. It said that he was problematic, unruly, even violent, until his wife brought the doll to him months later. She and their daughter had moved, packing the doll up when they left. She found again, when she was unpacking boxes that had been stuffed in the attic. She didn't understand the attachment that her husband had to the doll, but she knew that the man that was in the hospital was no longer her husband. When she brought the doll to him, she said that she thought she saw a remnant of the man her husband was before. He hugged her, then took the doll and sat down on his bed, promptly forgetting about her in that instant. George still had the doll and took care of it every day. He brushed her hair, spoke with her, took her on his evening walks around the flower gardens of the institute, things like that. Her name was Emily, and he wouldn't go anywhere without her. I had my headphones in so I didn't hear anything, but I felt someone in the house. I took the earbuds out of my ears and lay my laptop to the side, to sit up on the couch. "Anybody home?!" I yelled, loudly enough for anyone to hear me if they were inside the house. The doors were locked and the security was set so only the ones who knew it and had a key could get inside. No one answered me, but I just felt like someone was with me. My nerves started getting the best of me as I stood to go check the front door. What if someone had managed to get inside without me knowing, and they wanted to rob or harm us? 

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