• Walking into my bedroom, I chucked my bag onto the carpet, changed out of my school kit and dragged a comb through my tangled hair. Just before walking back out the front door, I passed mum's repugnant ceramic clown doll, sitting on the hall table. It was as tall as a milk bottle and wore a silk suit that was yellow with age. Its eyes petrified me. Although they were painted on, I was sure they changed from blue to green and could follow you around a room. It frightened me when I was baby and now, 16 years later, it still scared me stiff. Mum refused to get rid of it, even when the nightmares began.

    Shutting the front door me, I heard a deafening crack, I looked around, but nothing had changed in the street. No one had come out to investigate the noise, not even nosy Mrs Wilson from next door. I must of imagined it, I thought. But then I heard another sound. Someone was breathing loudly behind me. I spun round and there in front of me stond the clown doll, eyes flashing, chest moving to the beat of its own heavy breathing. It started to move towards me. I tried to turn, but I was paralysed. Fear shook me like a bolt of lightening, pumping unto my viens and filling my whole body. As the doll locked eyes with me, I felt the strangest sensation, like having pins and needles all over.I felt heavy yet light, as if all my blood was being drained. I tried to look away, but I couldn't resist the doll's hypnotic stare.

    Suddenly, my perspective shifted, My eye level was lower, and I wasn't staring at the doll any more. I was looking at my own body, lying lifeless on the ground.