When I was at least 14 years old or so, after school I always used to take a shortcut from my school down this shady looking neighborhood, it really was disturbing, the houses I saw looked abandoned and worn down, almost all the houses were for sale there although even the retail signs looked ancient with its black mold and graffiti;it was a real ghost town. There was only one garage sale, though nobody was even there,they instead put a jar that said in crude scribbled wording "PUT MONEY HERE" the thing that struck me most was a sad looking,clown doll. The doll had a old red smile, with a dusty and moldy clown suit on, but the most unsettling feature of it was the button on its belly, when you pushed it, the clown would burst into a high pitched cackling noise, it sounded like a deranged cartoon laugh. Along with that the clown shook violently for 5 seconds with its blubbering laughter. I got too freaked out to dilly dally any further. I ran like fast, and faster,and faster....That night. I emailed my good friend, Joel, I luckily took the picture of it, and sent it to him, with this very response;"Hey dude! I was looking at the picture you sent me, I did some jiffy research and found out about this: apparently, the doll was made by an english man toy maker,he was depressed and decided to make this doll to represent happiness and joy,unfortunately,he died right after he sent the idea to the foundation, they made the doll anyway, but they soon realized that a glitch,it originally was a wind up,but the doll kept activating by itself on accident,so they decided to replace the wind up with a button, although the doll kept activating by itself,so they trashed out the idea and send the doll to an orphans home,only days later for the creators dying all of them saying "dont replace me...please...". The clown doll was confiscated due to bad luck,being lost until now,when you my friend found it... I'm not sure what to say to this, pretty messed upBye! Joel"I was dumbfounded by this, I thought to myself,"it didn't do that when I saw that..." although I am 15, I wanted to sleep in my parents room, but they wouldn't let me espically since my dad said "Son, its not our responsibility to comfort you from your own weakness, you need to do that by yourself". So that night I laid in bed,with my brain jammed with thoughts about that doll. I kept reminding myself its just some lump of fluff and gears. But I couldn't, I reminded myself of my old bed rituals when I was six, leaving the door open a crack, closing the closet, checking under my bed for Freddy Krugeor or Jason, and putting my night light on. That exactly what I did that night.I sunndenly wake up in my bed, I sit up very quickly, the moons out, sweat is dripping down my neck and body like raindrops,my nightlights shattered...wait, I turn on my old flashlight,dim as hell,but bright enough to see what happened,my night light is shattered, like if someone came in and gunned it down, I think I wizzed my pants,pinched myself (surly not dreaming), I was awake, I checked the clock, "3:06", something else was wrong, my window was wide open, just a draft or something, at least that what I wanted to think, what I really was thinking was, "the clown doll", no, of course not, I imagined the clown ridiculously attempting to walk, flopping around, I laughed, at least I thought I did, I heard laughing of not my own, the sound a clown would make, "oh god, help me", I was praying to God desperately, rephrasing bible verses in my mind, until I heard a voice from someone (or something else) this time, an old mans voice whispering "please... Don't replace me..." that was the last human words I heard until then, I was wanting to scream for my mom and daddy as loud as I could my mouth failed me, it was dry like a desert, the clown was rising slowly from a corner, louder and louder the laughing was heard, sundenly, my door opened the lights flicked on, my dad was there, he looked surprised, "Son! Are you all right?!" I jumped out my bed with joy and hugged him, but I didn't feel him,no, I was in bed again, in pitch darkness, the moon white as sugar, and my face, dripping with sweat, like raindrops,"it was just a dream" I told myself, I thanked God himself, but I looked at my clock, but what I looked at wasn't, it was it, the doll staring in my eyes, the plastic,dead eyes staring into my soul, it whispered "don't replace me..."