"Molly!" My mom called from my brother, Andy's room. He was packing his stuff for college. "Can you figure out what you're going to give away to Sunnyside Daycare?"

"Ugh, mom! I'm busy!" I yelled back to her, flipping through my fashion magazine. I crank up the volume on my iPod to tune her out.

"Molly Davis! Get those earphones out of your ears and get to work!" My mom said sternly, entering my room. She placed a box on the floor. "Here. Put whatever you don't want in this box. It won't take you ten minutes."

When she left the room, I sighed heavily. I mindlessly started throwing some old baby toys in the box. I took one last glance at my Barbie doll and then tossed her in, too. Bye-bye baby toys and hello iPods and magazines.

The box became more and more full as my room became emptier. After I had cleared out almost all my bedroom, I lifted by covers to check under the bed for anything. There was an old, dusty board game, a pink rubber alien doll (creepy) and...a black journal.

"That's weird," I murmured, putting down my magazine which I'd been holding the whole time. I crawled under the bed, snatched the spiral notebook and opened it.

"Whoever wrote in this has really cool handwriting," I thought aloud, grinning. It was curly and fancy. It had obviously been written by an ink pen held by an agile hand. It definitely wasn't my handwriting. The pages were yellowish and kind of old. Who could this have possibly belonged to? I wondered.

I looked on the back of the notebook and found a small word written in the bottom corner. I gasped. In gold ink was the word "Buster." Our pet dog!

I almost screamed with laughter and excitement as I jumped up to show it to Andy, but I hit my head on the bottom of the bed, which stopped me from screaming.

"Wait," I whispered, rubbing my head. "Let me read what's in this."

I opened up to the first page of the book. My mouth dropped as I read the black ink.

No one has discovered my secret yet. Not even Molly, since she's so plugged into her music and social media. I plan to take over the house soon, but I have to wait for the right moment. If I reveal myself too suddenly, the Davis family will not be intimidated, but only amused. They'll laugh at me. Of course, they'll regret laughing at me after I've bitten their heads off.

I will make them my slaves and they shall do whatever I say for the rest of their miserable lives. And what will they do? Nothing, because poor Molly is too dull-minded to look under her bed and find this journal.

I slammed the book shut. Pure shock came over me. I couldn't move. My head still throbbed. My hands trembled. Buster was...evil?!

I didn't have time to confirm it. It was plain as day. He had written down his confessions in the journal that I was holding! All I had time to do was warn my family before it was too late.

I scurried out of my bedroom and started pounding down the stairs. But I froze in my tracks. The front door was open and in the doorway sat Buster. He was staring up at me, his head tilted, his eyes seeming to glow red. Usually when dogs sit like that, they wag their tails and their ears ears perk up. Buster sat completely still, though.

Ever so slowly, I crept down the steps, one by one keeping my eyes on Buster. When I reached the base of the stairs, he got up and I bit my lip to hold back a scream. But I was safe. Buster only turned around and wobbled outside.

Immediately, I searched the entire house for Andy or my mom. But I couldn't find either of them!

Buster already got them! I thought, worriedly.

I decided to check the basement one more time. I hurried down the steps and arrived in the pitch black room. The dead silence made my skin crawl. I slowly reached for the light switch. It didn't work. The light bulb must have gone out.

I silently took a deep breath. Calm down, Molly, I told myself.

Then I heard the clinking of a metal. It sounded like his dog collar. I swallowed hard. It seemed to be coming from right in front of me. I stepped back onto the staircase slowly, ready to run upstairs. Suddenly, Buster started barking furiously. I dashed up the steps, my heart beating fast. I panted loudly as his barking and growling grew louder.

"Andy! Mom! HELP!" I finally shouted, at the top of my lungs. I headed for the front door which was still open.

I rammed right into Andy and immediately announced, "Buster is evil! He's trying to take over our house! He's going to make us his slaves! And he knows I know!" I stopped when I realized Andy was chuckling. Then cracking up. Then slapping his knees and holding his stomach.

"Andy! It's not funny! Buster is -" I stopped myself. I realized how stupid I sounded. And then I remembered where I had seen that handwriting; on one of the papers in Andy's room.

"You wrote that journal!" I blurted, pointing at him.

Now he was dying with laughter. "I can't believe you actually fell for it!" he snickered!

To be honest, neither can I, I thought to myself. I started giggling along with my prankster brother. Then Buster started licking my leg. I bent down and pet him, saying, "Who's not evil? Who's not evil?" I rubbed his brown belly, laughing.

"By the way," Andy said, heading back to his room. "I bought something for you. A 'goodbye' present or something."

It wasn't wrapped. He simply handed me a life-sized stuffed dog that looked like Buster. Only it was softer and, well, younger. Man, I can't believe I thought an old dog like Buster would be capable of attacking us, let alone writing in cursive!

That night, as I lay in my bed, I realized how much I would miss Andy. Annoying as he was sometimes, he was hilarious and sometimes generous. Although ever since he became a high schooler, we became kind of distant. I gazed at my stuffed Buster, which sat on my armchair. I guessed maybe I wasn't too old for some toys. It actually made me miss Barbie.

I sighed and closed my eyes, ready to drift off. But a tiny noise jerked me awake. I opened my eyes and...I swear my stuffed Buster had moved.

THE END