There was a lovely lady on my street called Mrs Valentine. She had blonde hair, blue eyes and a pretty smile and was very beautiful. I was five when I met her two years ago, and it was my birthday today.

She came to my house in the morning and handed me a sparky pink box tied up in a gold ribbon. She said that my mummy had told her that I was having trouble sleeping, and that this would help. I opened it and found a pretty doll with dark hair and pink eyes, in a gorgeous dress. She told me that she had lots of pretty dolls in her house and I could come over and see them after tea.

After my chicken and chips, I went over to Mrs Valentine's house and saw all the beautiful dolls with a room to themselves. They were as big as me, and some were even taller. Some were sat in armchairs, some lying in beds, the rest posing to be dancing or doing something. It was adorable.

"Would you like to make a lovely doll like this?" Mrs Valentine asked me, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"Oh, can I?" I had never been trusted with things like this before in my life.

"Ask your mummy if you can stay over for a night next week, because making a doll takes at least one day."

I agreed. I couldn't make one now, but she let me decorate one bigger than me called Mia. We gave her a waterfall of blonde hair, instead of her messed up locks, and I got to dress her up in lots of dresses that Mrs Valentine had made. We put Mia into lots of poses for the camera and took pictures. My favourite dress went from a deep peachy orange to a dark blood red to a soft rose pink.

Then she gave me a tour of the different dolls. I loved Keira's black curls instead of my mousse brown tangled hair. I adored Eleanor's blue eyes instead of my grey ones. I wanted though, most of all, to have Mia's silk sunset dress.

***

I went home and watched a film with my mummy, my new doll Trinity tucked in beside me. By the time the movie finished it was getting very late for a seven year old girl and I was nodding off a little bit. I remembered to grab my doll, but I dropped Trinity on the bottom step when mummy was carrying me and we couldn't go back when I was almost asleep.

Mummy forgot to close the door when she turned off the light.

***

I woke up to my mummy's door closing. I was used to walking up from the slightest of sounds. But this time it was harder to get to sleep. I got out of bed, and tiptoed out of my room to find my doll on the stairs.

I knew she was on the bottom step, but when I was almost at the bottom, I saw her one step above it. I found it sightly strange, but remembered our cat Fluffy barely ever slept and went back to bed. I didn't want to get the doll incase it gave me nightmares.

I woke up again to a loud thump. My alarm clock said 00:39, so I knew it was very early, even though I couldn't properly tell the time. I tiptoed out of my bedroom again and saw my doll sitting on the top step. I picked it up, threw her down the staircase and ran quietly back to bed again, pulling the covers over my head.

I woke up again to knocking on the door. In the dim light from the hallway, I saw a silhouette of a tiny child knocking on my bedroom door. I was confused, until I saw the pink eyes of my doll looking right back at me, hungry for blood. She started to walk towards me, and climb on my bed, eyes wide as her smile.

I let out a scream. My mummy came running. She saw what had happened. She took the doll and threw it in the fireplace. I thanked her.

***

The next day we went to Mrs Valentine and told her what had happened. She said that she was sorry for what had happened and asked if I would like to stay over to make another one that wouldn't attack me, one that was as big as me.

"Can I, mummy, can I?"

"Yes, fine. But this one better not walk around the house, Jillian." My mummy said to Mrs Valentine.

Mrs Valentine sat me down at the table in the doll's room with a plate of cookies on the table. "Right, Bella, what do you want your doll to look like? What eyes, what hair, what dress? You decide!" She told me.

I looked over at Keira, her hair sitting on her shoulders in gorgeous black ringlets. "I would love for her to have curly hair like Keira, but maybe a dark brown like my mummy's hair instead."

"That sound very pretty." Mrs Valentine's voice seemed to be even sweeter than before, like syrup, almost as if she was singing a lullaby to my little two year old brother, Ben.

"And maybe pink eyes like Trinity had." I said to her. "No, not pink eyes. The pink eyes made her look evil. Blue eyes. Eleanor's eyes, but wider and prettier."

"That sounds fabulous darling."

I thought about the dress long and hard as I finished my cookie.

"She could have a silk dress like Mia. It could go from a black, to a midnight blue, to a deep purple, to a soft rosy pink. Twilight colours instead of sunset colours."

Mrs Valentine nodded at my decision. "Mia's dress took a while to dye, but it would be fun to do it again." She stood up to leave the room. "Help yourself to another cookie dear. I just need to get my tools. I'll be right back Bella."

I took another cookie. Who wouldn't? I was just about to take a bite when I saw the doll Eleanor stand up from her piano stool and turn to face me. Her blue eyes were now brown, her black hair blonde, her freckles nowhere to be seen. Her pretty cotton dress was now a blue school uniform. What was going on?

Mrs Valentine walked into the room just as the last doll, Mia, turned into a vision of ugliness. "Mrs Valentine, your dolls!"

The walls were darkening, everything around me dissolving into the air, disappearing into nothing. "I know." She sat a little doll on the table, the only remaining thing in the room. I had stood up by this point, the chairs gone for no reason I could see. As I looked at the doll closer, I saw the unmistakable pink eyes of my doll Trinity. But she was burnt in the fire...

"What are you doing?"

"Making your doll darling." I couldn't move any longer. I was glued to the spot, my eyes following Mrs Valentine's every move even though I wanted to see where the nearest exit was. She took a knife, sharp like a sword, from the bag she had brought, and made her way towards me. "This may hurt sweetie, but it will be over soon."

She gripped the knife in her shaking hand, with my hand in her other, then sliced it through my skin like it was butter. The pain was unbearable. The gleaming metal made its way further into my arm. Blood poured from the injury. I hated blood; it made me faint. But my eyes were stuck watching Mrs Valentine's every move with the knife, and I couldn't turn away.

I whimpered a little bit, trying to show her I was being brave but failing badly. I couldn't help it. She stopped sawing for a moment and looked up into my eyes. A single tear fell from them and splashed onto the ground. "It will be alright, Bella." Her voice was drenched in pure sympathy, but I felt terrorised by her words. She was psychotic!

Almost immediately she began cutting through my flesh, digging it out, leaving the skin. This was how she made the dolls. All those poor girls dead, Keira, Eleanor, Mia, even Trinity...

I shut my eyes, but the pain continued to grow. I didn't think it would stop. I heard a dreadful ripping sound, and my eyes flew open to see a lump of my flesh on the ground, staining the carpet a red that would never come out. Red was smeared across my pinafore, my skin. I knew it was almost the end. Several more tears made a puddle on the ground.

"Darling, I know it hurts but it will be all over soon. And then, when it is, I will make you the beauty of the beauties. You will be stunning to look at. You will brighten everyone's day. You will be a star." Mrs Valentine tried to comfort me. It was probably the best she could do when I was about to die.

"Promise. Promise I will be the prettiest. Promise me that I will be the doll that could win prizes worth millions. Promise me that, Mrs Valentine." I didn't know what else to say. I didn't have anything else she could give me, except from my life back. And I knew, despite the fact that I was only seven, that that was beyond her abilities.

The last thing I saw was her smile behind blood spewing from my countless wounds, and then darkness. I was numb. Pain was something I couldn't feel at all. Pain was the past.

***

Mrs Valentine welcomed her little friend, a six year old girl called Lucie, into the doll room. Lucie's doll, Trinity, had been singing the little girl to sleep, which wasn't as comforting as it sounded. Lucie was taken on a tour through the dolls, from Keira to Eleanor, to Mia. But right at the back, standing on a stool in front of the double French doors, was the most beautiful doll of all.

She stood looking up at the sky with wide, sea blue eyes full of wonder. Dark chocolate brown hair sat in the perfect corkscrew ringlets on her shoulders, perfectly framing her petite face. Her dress went in and out in all the right places. It showed off the gorgeous colours, the soft rosy pink, darkening to a deep plum purple, flowing to a dark midnight blue, fading to black at the hem. She seemed to glow, the sunlight from the perfect garden background behind her framing her beautifully.

Her name was Bella. She was by far the best doll in the room.

Lucie stood on the faded red stain in the carpet, oblivious to Bella's dress behind her changing to a blood stained pinafore, her eyes becoming grey, her hair mousse brown and tangled. She blinked, and turned to Lucie, eyes wild and hungry for blood. Mrs Valentine had left the room by now.

Today, Lucie was making a doll of her own.