It was the middle of the night. I was 7 years old and, unlike most children my age, I still slept in my mom’s room, I’m not quite sure why. My parents had just recently gotten a divorce, so maybe I had developed abandonment issues? Either way, I was alone, it was pitch black, and I was scared. Reaching over with my right palm, I patted around looking for my mom’s body. I couldn’t find it. I glanced around the room for any source of light to get me out of this creepy situation. I peered over the blanket and spotted a slit of light escaping from the doorframe. I leaned in to listen more closely and found voices humming from the other side. Curiously, I leapt off the bed and bolted towards the door.
Without hesitation, I made my way out and noticed my whole family standing in front of the entertainment center in the parlor. Okay fine, the living room. Nobody calls it a parlor anymore. Everything seemed quite fishy at this point, like everyone knew something that I just didn’t. I tried to pry into the circle to find out more. My little, tiny legs skittered across the carpet, but just as I stepped foot in front of our couch, a grotesque hand reached out, quick as lightning, and clawed at my leg. It began its journey to pull me under.
This monster had thick, grey veins, and long, rugged fingernails. As she poked her head out, you could make out her glossy, black eyes and long, wiry hair. A noise came from the back of her throat as I hit the ground. It was that of a fire siren. It was so loud and unsettling that shivers ran down my spine as it rattled across the room. My family leapt in fear as she began reeling me in, but I couldn’t even scream. My mother was the first to jump in, of course. She grabbed both my hands and my two, older brothers grabbed onto my mom’s legs for leverage. All three of my family members began ripping my body out of her grip, her nails slicing both my hips. I screamed as I felt her talons leaving my body. You could sense her desire for my flesh. She finally let go.
I flew forward, blood dripping down my sides. My mother pulled me in close and immediately backed away from the couch in tears. We all stared at this thing for a split second, anxiously. In that moment, this decrepit creature of a girl snarled at us, showing her bloody teeth and black gums, then sucked herself back underneath our living room couch. It was as if everyone had let out a gasp of air at the same time, like every clock in the house was given permission to start ticking again. We exchanged looks of fear and concern, but something felt off. Was I the only one out of the know here?
“What… was that?” I fumbled to breathe the words out between painful cries. My back was on fire and it felt as if this creature had poisoned me with venom under its fingernails. My mom held me closer.
“Her name’s Alma.” My mother confessed. “She only comes out at around 3AM, the witching hour.”
“Well, why? Where did she come from?” I begged my mother to spill the beans.
“She’s our family curse. She comes after our daughters.” My mother gave me a very serious look and my brothers stood by her side, concerned.
“She’s going to try to tell you to do things, Tali. You can’t listen to her. She may even try to trick you into believing that it’s all in your head. It’s not.” My mother gulped in fear. “Then she will try to take you.”
“What?!” I chortled in disbelief. “What do you mean, ‘take me’?!”
“Don’t worry about that. Thinking that far ahead will only strengthen her power through your fear. Be strong and she can’t hurt you. Trust your instincts, do not carry a doll around with you, as that can sometimes act as a vessel for her spirit, and whatever you do, do not step foot near this couch, especially at 3AM.”
“Am I going to be like this forever?” I asked.
“No, the curse will be passed to the next youngest daughter in the family, and so on and so forth.” She announced.
“That’s horrible!” I cried.
“Yes, but she can’t hurt you if you follow these simple rules.” She finished. “Now let’s get some rest.”
She washed the bloody mess from my sides and we all went back to bed. My brothers must’ve been so relieved they didn’t have to worry about this little girl, because they just went back to their room and slept like rocks. I woke up the next morning to a pretty typical day, except my sides hurt, incredibly. I just wouldn’t sit on the couch, I thought. Not a big deal. So I would sit on the carpet across from the couch, I’d lean up against the wall, I’d sit in the lounge chair by the fireplace, but sometimes it felt like she was lurking under there too. My family would ask me why I wasn’t sitting on the couch with them during movie nights and after-school marathons and I would say, “Because of the little girl…” but no one seemed to remember. Well, I believe, just like my mother had warned me, Alma was playing head-games and trying to erase my family’s memory as part of her evil plan to strip me away from everything I loved, and I wasn’t going to let her get away with it. So I continued avoiding the couch for the next 15 years.
By now, I was 22 and I’m sure you’re wondering if I had grown out of my fear of the little girl under my couch yet, but, I regret to inform you, my answer to that would be, no. I had spoken with my mother on my 22nd birthday and she clarified for the millionth time that we had never met up in the middle of the night in our living room, there was never actually a congregation about this little girl, and it was all just a really bad nightmare, but I knew this was Alma’s doing. My family began to think I was crazy, so they sent me to a mental hospital. I spent 4 weeks inside avoiding the edges of the bed at night. I couldn’t even get up to pee if I had to go, out of fear of Alma. They performed electroshock therapy on me until I finally believed that Alma was all in my head.
“3, 2, 1…. go!” Yelled a tall man in white across a two-way mirror.
*buzzzzzzz* The shocks began.
I remember the white lights above me and my ears ringing loudly between each shock. I also remember taking the medication they had prescribed me my first night there. I was playing twenty questions with my friend, Juan, who was also staying for his first night. We had slight crazy-crushes on each other, so I was looking forward to answering his questions. He began asking me simple ones.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“Tali.” I answered.
“Why are you here?” He asked again.
“Alma.” I answered.
Just then, I felt a strange sensation come over my head. The medication seemed to be kicking in. I felt my eyes getting droopy and my mind becoming as plain as a brick wall.
“What’s the best memory you have?” He went on.
I paused for a moment.
“I… I’m not sure.” I muttered. I tried to think as hard as I could, but just kept coming back to this brick wall.
“Maybe, um….” I continued.
“It’s okay.” He said. “It’s getting late anyway.”
I was frustrated that I couldn’t make out simple memories from my life and hoped this wouldn’t last forever. Nevertheless, we went to bed.
I was there for a whole month. My electroshock therapy happened every Monday and Wednesday, my mother would come see me on Fridays, and that was my routine. The day I was released from the mental institution, I was evaluated by a banquet table full of graduate students. They asked me a few questions about Alma. I told them she was a figment of my imagination that I intensified from a nightmare from my childhood. Once I admitted to the fallacy I believed for so long, they told me I was good to go.
A few weeks after my release, my brother and his wife were leaving town for the weekend and asked me to watch Dani, my niece, for them. I jumped at the opportunity, as my brother and his wife had just moved into town, so, up until this point, I hadn’t gotten to spend much time with her. My mother had given them our old childhood couch though, which I didn’t notice until I had gotten there. This honestly creeped me out a little bit, as this couch was my biggest source of fear for a number of years, but I laughed off the nerves as I remembered it was all just in my head.
We waved goodbye to my brother as he carried the last of their luggage out to the car.
“Goodbye! Safe travels!” I yelled.
“Goodbye, and don’t forget, she can’t be up past midnight!” He responded, then quickly drove away.
It was already pretty late, so my niece and I decided to snuggle up on the couch. We sifted through different trailers trying to find a scary movie, but, of course, we couldn’t find a single good film. By the time I did find the perfect happy-medium between a children’s story and an actual horror movie, I peeked down at my niece and she was fast asleep. She looked so peaceful that I ended up closing my eyes and dozing off as well.
A few hours later, I woke up to the whimpering of my niece. She was still laying in my arms, but clearly having a wicked nightmare. She accidentally dropped her doll on the floor, so I went to pick it up. Just then, her eyes shot open. I heard the grandfather clock in the hallway strike 3 times. I looked back down at my niece and from her mouth, in the most demonic voice I’ve ever heard, she chortled, “Let’s play.” I looked down at the doll. It was labeled, Alma. I screamed and started shaking my head really fast.
Just then, I woke up. It was all just a bad dream? My niece was still laying in my lap holding on tightly to her doll. I quickly woke her up and gave her a massive hug. She was very sleepy and didn’t know what was going on, but I was so incredibly happy that it was all just a nightmare, I just kept hugging her. All the sudden, the clock began to strike like it had moments before in my nightmare. It struck once, then twice. Every blood vessel in my body dilated as I heard the final strike. It was 3AM. I took her doll and glanced under its dress to see if there was still a label there. Sure enough, her doll was, indeed, named Alma.
“What are you doing with my dolly, Aunt Tali?” She sounded as sweet as Shirley Temple.
I leaned forward to step off the couch, but just as I did so, my niece shrieked, “Aunt Tali, no!” I quickly hoisted my leg back up.
“What, Dani?” I asked.
She held her doll close. Her doll’s head began turning, until it faced me completely. The doll’s lips began to move, “It’s 3AM and Alma wants to play.”
I began tearing up, grabbed her doll, and chucked it across the room. Dani jumped off the couch after it and a long, gruesome arm reached out and grabbed her by the leg. Dani hit the floor and began clawing at the ground, trying desperately to escape from this evil hand’s grip.
I jumped off the couch onto this creature’s disgustingly long arm. As I landed on its wrist, it let out a siren-like wail. I fell forward as it shriveled back underneath the couch. I picked up my niece like a football and bolted towards the kitchen. I set her on the counter and assessed the damage. She had clean cuts along her hips, just as I did when Alma had almost gotten me. I wet a towel down with soap and hot water and began dabbing her wounds.
“Daddy says you went crazy for a little bit. Is that true?” Dani asked, sincerely.
I took a moment to consider her question, as hurtful as it was.
“Yes, but only because of Alma.” I answered.
“Why are you afraid of Alma? She just wants to play.” Dani answered.
I looked at the clock. It was now 3:05AM. I got up sternly and began pushing the couch towards the back door.
“What are you doing, Aunt Tali?” She asked, concerned.
I opened the sliding door and kept pushing. I lifted this couch out and over the deck and pushed it all the way to the fire pit. I set it on top of some loose, half-burnt logs, ran back inside to grab a lighter, came back out, and within minutes, the couch was ablaze. The flames ran so high, it seemed like Alma’s spirit was crackling into the trees.
A neighbor called the police as we weren’t supposed to be burning during a drought. When they arrived, I acted cool as a cucumber, but Dani blurted out some heavy truths.
“We had to destroy the couch so Alma’s demon would disappear.” She blurted. “Aunt Tali saved me. Her hand almost had me, you should’ve seen it!”
The rest is history.
I’m writing this from Jefferson-David Mental Health Center. I am 30 now and my family has been very distant with me ever since the incident. My mother hasn’t visited me in years, and my brother and his wife have not let me speak with Dani since this all happened. I have been sending her letters everyday trying to get her to destroy that doll. If someone else has had any sort of similar experience they feel comfortable sharing, please do. This platform may be my only real chance I have at getting out. Please, if you’ve ever heard of or seen Alma before, comment down below and share your personal experience.