I moved with my family out of state and into a nice home in the suburbs of Oregon a couple of months ago. We adjusted to the move fairly quickly. Mom was working from home, so the move wasn’t detrimental to her career. Dad’s new job was the reason we moved out here, but it all seemed well for him too. Because of the move, I had to get out of my comfort zone and make some friends, which was surprisingly easy for me, considering my social anxiety. Within a month, I had already made 3 friends, Vincent and Victoria, who are twins, and Mason, who was dating Victoria at the time. They all lived in my new neighborhood, so every weekend, we’d meet at each other’s houses to hang out.
This particular night, we were at Mason’s house telling stories about encounters we’d had with the neighbors. Victoria was cuddled up to Mason on the bed, while Vincent and I were on the floor tossing a water bottle to each other.
“I’m serious, guys, Mrs. Howell was making goo-goo eyes at me while I was helping her with her groceries,” Mason exclaimed as we all shuddered.
“Dude, she’s like 80 years old. That’s disgusting,” Vincent fake gagged.
“She doesn’t have much time left anyways,” Victoria stated as we all chuckled.
This went on for about a while until I brought up the neighbors across the street. “Has anyone come across them at all? They don’t come outside often.”
There was a moment of silence. Vincent dropped the water bottle and looked at Victoria and Mason with a mix of horror and anguish in his eyes. “Dude, shut up, they might hear you”, said Mason ominously and looked across the street at the neighbor’s house.
“What? What’s wrong with them?”
They all looked around and sat around me, making sure to be quiet. “If we tell you this, you have to take it to your grave, okay?” Victoria’s stared through my soul as I agreed.
Vincent cleared his throat before speaking. “There’s some seriously weird shit going on in the Blackwood’s home. One time Vicky, Mason, and I were playing basketball, and the ball landed in their yard. Nobody in the neighborhood had even gone into their house, so we were scared to set foot on their property. We all went together on their lawn to get the ball back, when their front door opened. I shit you not, Leslie, Mrs. Blackwood was standing there with a bloody doll in her arms. Her screams pierced our ears as she told us to leave her ‘kids’ alone. There was a crying noise coming from in the house, and by that time, we’d already peeled outta there. We’ve told our parents and other neighbors, but everybody acts like the Blackwoods are normal people.”
“Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I still hear the crying sounds from across the street. We’ve come up with so many theories, but I think they kidnap people and leave them in there, and that’s who’s crying every night,” Mason chimed in.
To be honest, I thought they were joking, but when the loud cries suddenly started, my fear grew. “This is some freaky shit. They probably do bad things to their kids. I’m telling my parents tomorrow so they can call cps.”
“No! They won’t believe you, we’ve already tried talking to our parents. And besides, they don’t have any real kids,” Victoria looked over her shoulder.
“What do you mean?”
“The doll, Leslie. The doll Mrs. Blackwood was holding. Their ‘kids’ are fucking dolls. One time, they left their window open while I was mowing the lawn, and I watched as Mrs. Blackwood fed baby food to the same doll,” Mason said, visibly shaking.
I got up and went to the window, surveying the house across the street, the Blackwood residence. Nothing was out of the ordinary, besides the cries every now and then. “What the hell is going on in that house?”
The next morning, we were walking to school, goofing around as usual, when high pitched hum could be heard echoing through the neighborhood. It sent shivers down my spine as we all immediately turned to the house. Through the front window was the silhouette of a woman slowly spinning with something in her arms.
“Mrs. Blackwood,” Mason shuddered.
The silhouette turned to face us, as if whoever was behind the curtain could see us. The house screeched as we practically bolted through the neighborhood and onto the school campus.
While on our lunch break, we talked about getting a teacher involved, just in case there were actual children in the house. “I told Mr. Gibson, and he said he’d make a call. Not too sure if that’ll do anything, since we have no proof of actual kids being harmed,” Vincent said.
“It’s all that we have left,” Mason quivered.
“Anyone tried sending the police over there?” I asked as everyone nodded.
“It’s like adults in the neighborhood are brainwashed or something. Brainwashed to believe the Blackwoods are regular people,” Victoria took a sip of water. “Think about it. We’ve told our parents about what we saw when we were little. Nobody believed us. We’ve talked to our other neighbors and nobody believed us.”
“Is there another kid on the block that can help us?” Questioning everyone, their eyes darted over to a girl sitting by herself eating a sandwich out of a paper bag.
“We were friends with Clara once. She actually made it in their house, but hasn’t been the same since. She doesn’t talk to anyone anymore, not even her parents. It’s been years since it happened. There’s no point in talking to her,” Vincent rolled his eyes.
“It doesn’t hurt to try.” I said and got up, moving my lunch tray to Clara’s table, despite everyone’s eyes screaming to stay away.
“Hi, I’m Leslie. Can I sit here?”
No answer.
“We’re in the same econ class, and I just wanted to get to know you.”
No answer.
“We live in the same neighborhood,” I whispered. “I heard you went into the Blackwood residence.”
No answer. Not even her expression changed.
“Fuck it.” I went back to my table and sat down, a little disheartened.
The three of them laughed at me. “Told you,” Victoria said.
I stuck my tongue out at them and took one last glance at Clara, who still hadn’t moved.
After school, I chatted with my parents about my classes and friends. “Say, have you heard from the Blackwoods? They live four houses down.”
“Oh yeah, lovely people. Their kids are absolutely amazing,” Mom said with a grin.
“Kids? I thought they-“
“Speaking of their kids, Cheryl wants you to go over there and babysit them while they go out on their anniversary trip. They’re not all that bad,” Dad playfully nudged my shoulder. “Plus, they said they’ll pay you extra to spend the night with them.”
“I’ll think about it, Dad.”
“Don’t think too long, their anniversary trip is tomorrow.”
I went to my room and immediately Facetimed the group to tell them what happened. “Maybe you should go. The curiosity is practically eating us alive,” Victoria suggested.
“Are you nuts? Don’t do it Leslie, you might end up like Clara,” Mason cried.
“I say fuck it, you only live once, right? You’ll go out like a hero in our eyes,” Vincent said.
“That’s the point, fuckface. If Leslie doesn’t make it out alive, we’ll be right back at square one!” Mason declared.
“I’m going,” I said, putting on a brave face. The truth is, I was terrified. Terrified of dying, and terrified of coming out alive, but being a human doll like Clara. However, the only way we were going to find out about the Blackwoods is if we take the chance. It’s not like I had anything else to lose.
The next day rolled around. It was a Saturday, so I took the chance to spend the entire day with the group, just in case I wouldn’t live to see Sunday. As the evening came, we faced the Blackwoods lawn.
“You sure you wanna go in there?” Mason asked.
“Yeah, dude. I wanna see what’s in there.”
“We’ll pull an all-nighter at Mason’s to make sure you’re okay. While you’re in there, try to open a window on the first and second floor so we can see inside,” Victoria gave me a hug.
“Don’t die, Leslie, be strong in there,” Vincent gave my shoulder a tight squeeze.
“Oh, come on guys, you’re all acting like I’m going to war or something. I’m just babysitting a couple of dolls.”
“Whatever, just be careful. Give us a call if things go south, alright?” Mason patted my back as I walked up the steps of the Blackwood residence.
I looked back at the group before turning to the door, taking a deep breath, and knocking politely. I was greeted by a woman, Cheryl Blackwood. “Hello there! Are you Leslie Goodman? Come in, come in, the kids are waiting for you.” She held the door open for me. I looked back at their lawn one last time, and the group was gone. The door shut, and my fate was sealed.