Two months ago, after graduating and securing a job in finance, I moved halfway across the country in hopes of becoming more independent and finally experiencing what life is like as an adult. As I had little savings, accommodation options were limited. I was lucky enough to chance upon a cottage that was within my budget although quite out of the way from my office (or rather, from anywhere). Thankfully, work only required me to head in once a week so I figured it wasn’t that inconvenient and I could just stock up on groceries in town that same day.
It took multiple re-routes before finally getting to the right destination on my first day. The cottage was hidden amongst several rows of thick green shrubs, with an obscure pathway. Overgrown vines enveloped the walls of the house, making it difficult to even open the front door. I had to snap some branches surrounding the handle to set the entrance free from its grasp.
At first sight, it looked like a basement that was left untouched for many years, with cobwebs and dust covering every inch of the place. It took quite a bit of tidying up before the place looked inhabitable, but I rationalised that the cheap rental would make this clean-up worthwhile in the long run.
The only space left untouched was the fireplace.
It was nothing out of the ordinary – built using red bricks that was now fading in colour, with a square-shaped firebox and a crumbling wooden mantel supporting a half-used candle and some antique looking books. A glass door sealed the fireplace, with residue soot gathered at the base, presumably from the previous occupants.
Exhausted enough from all the cleaning, I figured that there wasn’t a need to touch the fireplace yet since winter was still months away. I settled in quickly with the little belongings I had and streamed a movie before turning in.
Little did I know… this marked the beginning of my night terrors.
I was never one to wake up drenched in buckets of sweat with heart palpitations to the beat of drums in a marching band; however, this nightmare caught me off guard. It took on an exact replica of my actual surrounding and was vividly etched into my mind, leaving me dazzled as I struggled to comprehend whether I was still dreaming.
With my heart still racing, I decided to switch on the lights and scroll through Instagram before attempting to go back to sleep. While doing so, I recalled a saying that dreams carry some sort of meaning or message. Intrigued, I began to look it up.
After searching through the web to decipher any significance behind my dream, I came across an app designed to connect two strangers to chat when they are awoken from a nightmare. You can choose to befriend others on the app without revealing anything about yourselves. Being a victim of recurring nightmares, I soon became a frequent user.
It worked like a charm in getting me out of a panicked state as I would almost immediately be matched with someone. It made me feel much less alone in the dead of night.
Last night, I met Gail.
[1 July’22 – 4:36AM]
Me: Hey. What time is it there?
Gail: It’s 4.36am here.
Me: Ahh, in the states?
Gail: Yeap, in the West Coast. You too?
Me: Yes. Glad to know someone is up at this timing here too.
Gail: Ahh, we only have our nightmares to thank for this…
Me: Indeed… the same crap for months now. It creeps the HELL out of me ugh.
Gail: Well, am glad that this app exist huh? At least we have someone to chat with rather than getting freaked out alone by ourselves.
Me: Definitely. Do you get nightmares often?
Gail: Yeah, more often the past few months. Not sure if its stress-induced since things are tough at work… What’s yours about?
Me: Ahh, that might be the reason for mine too. I can’t even focus at work anymore. It’s almost like a cycle – nightmare, lack of sleep, stress at work due to poor performance, nightmare, repeat.
For my dream, it’s always about this thing that is constantly… watching me. It starts off with me waking up in bed. I would proceed to draw the curtains and it would be here where I would notice my first sighting of it. Behind the big oak tree just outside of my fence, I would notice a bright red object floating knees length above the ground. A stark contrast from its surrounding colours, it never fails to capture my attention. With my gaze fixed on it as it slowly inches out, it becomes increasingly clear that this is a red flower attached to a headband. As it continues to reveal itself, I would realise that this headband isn’t worn on a person’s head, but a doll’s. A life-sized doll head. Parallel to the ground, it continues to extend out till the entire head is within sight.
Then, it stops.
With big blue eyes, tiny nose, and pinkish lips on clear porcelain skin, it stares at me.
Freaked out, I shut the curtains in a feeble attempt to dismiss the eerie sighting. I stand still behind the curtain, an equivalent to a toddler’s choice of hiding spot for hide and seek. For a hot minute, I was allowed to believe that I am in the clear; but then, sounds of laughter would begin to creep up. Faint, echoey giggles started to emerge from the walls of the house, periodically pausing only to return louder and closer each time. Before I knew how to react, the giggles would have already crept so close - as though someone leaned in and laughed right into my ear. Goosebumps prop up on my skin as I enter a full-blown panic state and make a dash out my room and down the stairs.
It is here that I would get a whiff of a burning scent. Pungent and overwhelming, it hits me hard all at once. I turn my gaze to the fireplace in hopes of identifying the root cause of this smell, but it remains unlit and shut. Distracted from my initial fear, I head towards the kitchen to investigate the next most probable cause. As I make my way round the kitchen table to the stove, I unwarily end up directly in front of the window located above it. Caught off-guard, I glance up only to be pulled back into the same predicament that I was in. Amongst the bush growing against the exterior walls of my house and staring right at me was that doll face less than an arm’s length away.
Like the adrenaline pump set off by a falling dream, I jolt awake.
But even after waking, I can’t seem to rid the feeling of its piercing gaze on me… It’s as though I am still being watched. Weird I know. But yeah, that kinda summarises my hell almost every night.
Gail: Like a helpless baby sparrow in the presence of its predator huh?
Me: Well, yeah… I guess you can put it that way.
Gail: Hmm, you mentioned having a fireplace?
Me: Yes, I do. I haven’t used it since I moved into this place though. Why are you suddenly asking about it?
Gail: Oh, I’ve read that sometimes bad dreams are caused by spirits trapped in the fireplace. It is important to clean it once in awhile even if you don’t put it to use. I don’t have a fireplace so that isn’t a solution for me but maybe you might want to give that a shot.
Me: Interesting. I’ve not seen that advice anywhere before, where did you see that?
Gail: I can’t recall haha, but no harm trying right?
Me: Hmm, yea. Lemme try it out and let you know if it does work! Shall we connect on the app? What’s your name anyways?
Gail: Yeah sure. You can call me Gail.
Heeding Gail’s suggestion, I cleaned out the fireplace. There was indeed a change in my dream tonight. But not for the better. The same series of events took place. However, this time, it continued beyond.
After coming face-to-face with the doll at the kitchen window, I didn’t jolt awake. Still stuck in my hellish nightmare, I made a dash towards the far end of the cottage and crouched down at the corner of the living room. I tried blocking out my senses by covering my ears and tightly shutting my eyelids to escape this dreadful situation.
*Creaaaak*
An unfamiliar sound. Slightly draggy, hinge unlubricated. A door? No… A window? Not that either. Slowly lifting my heavy eyelids, I glanced around to identify its source. As my eyes made its way in the direction of the fireplace, my heart stopped. The fireplace door was ajar.
*Giggles*
Under the sofa, I spotted an illuminating object amongst the darkness. It edged out slowly, revealing a familiar shade of red.
Drowning in my own breathlessness, I snapped awake.
When I woke up, my first instincts instructed me to check the fireplace. Although impossible, I was drenched in fear. Going down the stairs, I spotted the fireplace. There it stood, as I remembered it, exactly in my dream. Door ajar.
I was freaking out. I needed someone to contact, to be present. I pulled out my phone and got onto the app to reach out to Gail.
[2 July’22 – 3:56AM]
Me: Hey Gail, you up??
Gail: Yea. I am.
Me: I cleaned the fireplace but that just made things worse. I saw it in my house in my dream and now my fireplace door is open and I didn’t open it. FUCK what is going on?!?!
Gail: Perhaps you shouldn’t have gone near the fireplace, huh?
Me: What? You were the one who told me to clean it up. What are you talking about??
Gail: Don’t you remember what you did? Perhaps this would ring a bell. Gail is short for Abigail.
Just as you so mindlessly eradicated the inhabitant of that lovely dollhouse, so shall the same fate befall upon you. Burning and trapped for years… it is time you suffered just as I did.
*Conversation ended. Gail has gone offline.*
Abigail… Where have I heard this name before? I’ve only known an Abigail back in high school but we were barely acquaintances. I’ve never even spoken to her, more so done anything to hurt her. Oh wait, there was one other Abigail, but it wasn’t a person. It was a… doll. My younger sister’s doll years back when I was still a prepubescent kid. My sister would carry it around wherever she went, to school, the mall, bathroom… everywhere. However, there was an incident that led me to doing something hasty. My sister really pissed me off and I took revenge by getting rid of what she loved the most, Abigail. This took place during winter, when the fireplace was being put to good use to escape the coldness. My parents happened to be out for a grocery run when I got into an argument with my little sister. I can’t remember the exact details of our quarrel but it was enough to set off something in me that proceeded with me snatching Abigail from her grasp and throwing it into the blazing fire. By the time my parents got home, Abigail was burned so badly that there was no way to save it. Following this event, my sister stopped speaking to me and we grew apart. She would always be cooped up in her room staring at her empty dollhouse that once housed Abigail. She even grew distant from our parents and became quite unsociable at school, with little to no friends. Eventually, she moved out to live on her own when she turned 18 and we have not been in contact ever since… Up till today, I don’t know if what I did contributed to her becoming this way but it doesn’t make sense for anyone to be so overly affected by a toy right?
Wait. Why am I still hearing it??? I am awake typing this. Why am I still hearing that giggling sound? Somebody help me, I don’t know what to do. Is it really coming for me??? Posting this in hopes of getting some advice if anyone has been in a similar situation.