WARNING:
THE FOLLOWING IS A COPY OF AN ACTUAL LETTER FOUND IN THE BASEMENT OF PATRICIA'S (PATTY) HOME. WE THINK IT’S TRUE, BUT IT IS UP TO YOU TO DECIDE WHETHER OR NOT THIS IS A HOAX. BELIEVE AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Okay, I don’t have much time before it finds me, so I will explain quickly. There is an entity in this house, and it’s coming to find me, too. I know I’m not making much sense, but you don’t understand. Here is how it started:
On Thursday, my best friend Patty invited me over to her house after school to hang out. Nothing was out of the ordinary yet. It was just basic conversation.
“So did Sean really ask her that?” Patty asked me.
“I don’t know,” I replied, “That’s what Katie told me. But-”
I was interrupted when Patty’s mother and her little brother, Donovan, walked though the door with a bag that read, “Puppets & Things.”
Donovan exclaimed happily, “Hi Patty! Hi Kathy! Look what I got!”
Donovan reached into his bag and pulled out a ventriloquist doll. It had a black suit on, a white shirt underneath, black shoes, a top hat, red, plastic hair, bright blues eyes, a mildly scarred face, and a somewhat mischievous smile.
“Oh, my gosh!” Patty exclaimed, “Geez, Donovan! First of all, why do you have that? Second of all, you know how much I am afraid of dolls or anything ‘doll- related.’”
Donovan replied to Patty, still happy, “I was a good boy at school this week, so Mommy let me get this doll. I want to be just like Jeff Dunham when I grow up!”
Patty turned to her mother. “Mom, you actually allowed him to buy that thing? You know how much I hate dolls!”
Patty’s mother said, “Honey, it’s not like you are going to find it in your room mysteriously on your bed. You’ll be fine.”
“Mm-hmm, sure I will.”
I tried to be nice to Donovan by saying, “Wow, Donovan! I love your ventriloquist doll! What’s his name?”
“Charlie McCarthy,” He answered, “Mommy, I’m going to go play with him in my room.”
Patty’s mother replied, “Okay, Sweetie! Have fun!”
On Friday, I got a call after dinner. It was from Patty. “Kathy, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent!”
“Um, okay. What’s up?”
“It’s that doll that Donovan got. It’s driving me crazy!” Patty told me, sounding desperate.
“Patty, you know nothing weird or bad is going to happen,” I reassured her.
“Yeah? You think so? Then explain this: When I came home from school today, I was going to start my homework in the living room. When I walked in, I found Charlie McCarthy sitting on the couch. Also, when I came home from softball practice, I went upstairs to my room, and it was sitting on my bed. It scared me so much, I rushed out of my room, and screamed at Donovan for even buying it!”
I told her, skeptically, “Okay, that doesn’t mean it got to those places all by themselves. Maybe your brother put them there.”
“Wrong,” She said, this time acting a little snotty. “When I came home from school, I was the only one home. And in the morning, Donovan placed the doll in his room. Also, when I was at softball, no one was home because when I was at practice, my mom had to take Donovan out shopping for new soccer cleats and shin guards.”
“Well, even if that can be a little mysterious, you never know who could have done it.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” she said to me reluctantly, “And sometimes, I swear it talks to me. Like on Thursday, after you left, I said to myself, ‘Geez, that’s a creepy doll.’ And when I turned around to leave, I heard someone whisper, ‘You don’t know what I’m capable of doing.’”
“Alright, maybe your brain was just set on thinking that it would move and say something, so you heard it,” I said, not really paying attention to what I was saying. “At any rate, I have to go. I need to finish the homework for Mr. Pulaski’s class. I’ll talk to you at school on Monday.”
“Okay, see you then. But take what I said under consideration.”
“Uh yeah, sure,” I said hanging up the phone.
At school on Monday, I ran into Patty before Ms. Elmore’s social studies class started. By the look on her face, I could tell that something was wrong.
“Patty,” I started, “what’s-”
She cut me short. “It’s Charlie McCarthy. Look, can you sleep over at my house tonight? I don’t feel safe in my own home.”
“Patty, it’s one thing to be scared. But it’s another thing to not feel safe in your own home,” I told her, getting annoyed.
“Ugh! Seriously Kathy? You wouldn’t help a friend out when she is in need?”
I finally gave in and said, “Alright! I’ll sleep over tonight!”
“Okay, thank you!” Patty sighed, relieved.
“Sure,” I said, “whatever.”
That night at Patty’s house, she thanked me about a thousand times for sleeping over. Even though I wasn’t staying over to “protect” her from Charlie, I just wanted to hang out and forget about the doll.
“Of course I don’t mind,” I told her. “We are going to just forget about Charlie and have fun!”
Boy, was I way off with that one.
When we got tired of talking and watching movies, we just decided to go to sleep. Patty was a little unwilling at first, but I eventually persuaded her. I wanted to sleep in her room, but Patty refused because Donovan’s room was right across the hall. So we ended up sleeping a little farther down the hall in the guest room. In Patty’s words, “Since we were farther down the hall, Charlie wouldn’t kill us first.”
That’s when it happened. I woke up at 2:30 to some scratching noises, but I knew it was nothing. The scratches ended up becoming louder and louder. Finally I turned to Patty and said, “Patty do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” she asked, slurring her words, due to her drowsiness.
I replied, “There were these scratching noises coming from over there-” I pointed to the wall “-and then I- PATTY, IT’S CHARLIE!!!!!!!”
From where I pointed was Charlie McCarthy was sitting next to Patty with an 8” steak knife from the kitchen. Before Patty could scream, the doll climbed on her back. It is too painful for me to mention what happened next, but you will get the hint if I say that, right then and there, was when I watched Patty close her eyes for the last and final time.
I can’t even describe what I felt at that moment. I ran downstairs just to get away from Charlie. There was no where else to hide except the basement (which made it even scarier). That is where I am right now, writing this letter, hoping somebody will find it, and stop Charlie before he gets out of the house. This letter is also a notification to let everyone in town know that they should take cover and lock all doors until Charlie McCarthy is found. If someone ends up finding this, get Charlie, stop him, and take care of Donovan and Patty’s mother. Wait, did someone just tap on my shoulder? AAHH!! Got to go!!!
WHAT YOU HAVE JUST READ IS TRUE, BUT BELIEVE WHAT YOU WANT. THE POLICE HAVE NOT YET CAUGHT THE DOLL CALLED CHARLIE MCCARTHY YET, SO BE CAREFUL. WE WILL RELEASE A NEWSLETTER ONCE IT IS CAPTURED. FOR RIGHT NOW, TAKE CARE OF WHAT YOU DO AND WHERE YOU GO.
KELSEY H.,
EDITOR IN CHIEF OF
“LOCAL & TRUE ENTITIES/HAUNTINGS”