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My twin sister, Ruth, didn't have to throw away her favorite doll just because I wouldn't touch mine anymore. I wouldn't have cared if she played with it again, just so it wasn't in our house.

We truly loved our first grown-up dolls; presents for our fifth birthday. They had long slender legs, black shoulder length hair, and dark, curly eyelashes. The dolls came with a closet full of stylish clothes even party gowns and dancing slippers. We pretended they were models in store windows or famous dancers on stage. Each night, before going upstairs, we'd dress our dolls in silk pajamas, tuck them into their beds on the sun porch, and wish them pleasant dreams.

One night, long after everyone was asleep, a strange noise woke me up. I sprung to my knees, stared into the darkness, and listened. There it was again ... a tap, tap, tapping on the wooden stairs. It was the dolls! I could hear their high heels tapping on the steps. Tappity, tappity, tap, a pause, a hard tap ... a little closer! The dolls had jumped to the next step. They were dancing on the stairs on their way up to my room!

I clung to the bedpost. Again, tappity, tappity, tap... a pause ... another hard tap ... much louder and much closer! I fled through the archway to Ruth’s room. "Ruth, Ruth." I hollered, shaking her hard. "Wake up, oh please wake up."

"What's the matter now?" she mumbled. "Our dolls... they're dancing on the stairs ... on their way up here! Oh Ruth, I'm scared."

"I don't hear any dancing. Go away I want to sleep."

"It's true, Ruth. Honest it is. Come to my bed. You can hear better from there." I yanked her from under the covers. "You have to hear it yourself." Ruth and I squatted together on my bed with the spread pulled up to our necks. "Listen hard now." I said.

Tappity, tappity, tap, a pause...a hard tap. Ruth grabbed my hand. "I heard it." she squealed, "They are dancing on the stairs!" Tappity, tappity, tap, a jump ... to the top step! We scampered back to Ruth’s bed. "I don't want to hear anymore," Ruth whimpered. "I don't want them coming in here." I groaned. We pulled the covers over our heads so they couldn't find us.

The next morning Mother called us to breakfast. Ruth and I walked together out to the hall. We didn't see anything there. Holding hands, we slowly started down the stairs, looking this way and that. We still didn't see anything. "Come on, Ruth." I said. "Let's check the sun-Porch. Our hearts pounding, we stepped inside and looked at the doll's beds. The covers were thrown back. and the beds were empty! Our fingers tore into each other's hands, as we stood rigid looking this way and that. There they were ... sitting on the edge of an old wicker chair. They were dressed in party gowns and dancing slippers! When our eyes met, they winked at us!

That did it! The dolls had to go!

Alice Doray 


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All the short stories and poetry on this site are written by Alice Doray and are owned and copyright owned by the family of Alice Doray.  "Maple Awake" is owned and copyright owned by the family of Alice Doray.  This web site is owned by John Doray and all the material on this sight is used with permission of the family of Alice Doray.  Anyone caught reproducing and/or copying or reusing any of the writings  or drawings on these pages, in full or in part, without written consent of the family of Alice Doray will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.  It is a federal offense to illegally copy or reproduce copyrighted material.