Chapter 1: The Storm Arrives

Let me share with you an unsettling tale. It all began with a sudden downpour. In the Midwest, we are accustomed to summer storms. The day starts off sweltering and dry, with the afternoon spent seeking out shade or, as was the case that day, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the ice cream truck as it rolled down the street to provide relief from the heat.

Then, out of nowhere, the skies opened up, and we were forced to scramble inside. We barely had time to grab our belongings before we were drenched. The rain poured relentlessly, transforming the cracked earth into muddy puddles as our front yard began to flood.

Initially, this meant no outdoor fun for us. But there was a silver lining to the storm: our mom couldn’t force us outside, and we had recently become enamored with our PlayStation. Thus, we spent the rest of the day immersed in a game of Crash Team Racing.

Eventually, the rain ceased. It felt like just another evening. We had dinner, played a few more rounds of video games, and soon it was bedtime. As soon as the door clicked shut, I quietly turned the television back on. It was summer, and I was reaching that delightful age where staying up late felt more thrilling, even if the only programming available was infomercials.

And that’s when the oddness began.

Sitting in bed, I heard a sound. At first, it was faint, almost indistinguishable. But as the night wore on, it became clearer. Was that… singing? I tried to dismiss it for as long as possible. I even attempted to rouse my little brother, but he was fast asleep. Convinced it was the television, I switched it off. The ambient noise faded, and the sound became undeniably eerie.

A little girl’s voice was singing.

"Ring-around-the-rosie,

Pocketful of posies,

Ashes, ashes,

We all fall down."

It repeated over and over.

Now, picture yourself as a ten-year-old in the dark, hearing a child’s voice singing a nursery rhyme. I was terrified, convinced I was facing a haunting. I had seen only a handful of horror films, but I knew this was the precursor to something sinister.

I tried to convince my mom to listen, but she dismissed my pleas, thinking I was just trying to avoid bedtime. To be fair, I had a vivid imagination and was prone to spinning tales.

After three attempts to persuade her, she finally joined me. To my relief, she heard it too. With a sly grin, I exclaimed, “I told you so.” However, she was more concerned than amused, fretting over the mysterious voice outside our house. She even called my dad at work, who asked if our dog was barking or seemed anxious.

At the time, we had a massive canine protector who loved patrolling the premises at night. Yet, she was sound asleep.

Dad assured Mom it was likely nothing to worry about. He offered to come home and check, but she declined, believing there must be a reasonable explanation.

We let the dog out into the night, and she wandered around without a care. If someone had been in the yard, they would have been in serious trouble. But there was only silence, and the dog roamed casually.

We joined her outside, me holding a flashlight. It was long before the days of bright LED lights; we only had a Maglight, resembling a little league bat.

As the singing became clearer, I swung the light around the yard. Nothing appeared amiss, or so I thought. We ventured further onto the grass, a moment that would have had horror movie viewers screaming, “No!”

As we stepped into the darkness, the beam of light began to flicker. The singing intensified.

Finally, I looked down and discovered the source of the noise.

This is where I pause to share a crucial detail. About six months earlier, my sister had received a singing doll for Christmas. It played a song when you held its hands, but she quickly lost interest, and the doll was forgotten.

However, on that fateful day, she had taken it outside, the same day the storm hit. No one had realized the doll was left behind.

Guess which song it sang when you pressed its hands?

There it was, lying on the ground, singing away with no one to hold it. My mom soon figured that the rain must have short-circuited it, and as soon as she removed the battery, the singing abruptly ceased.

I can't describe the relief that washed over me.

My mom tried to appear unfazed, but later confessed to being genuinely spooked by the eerie singing. Afterward, we returned inside. My mom allowed me to play video games well past my bedtime, likely out of sympathy for how frightened I had been.

Back in my room, I switched on the PlayStation, grateful that the only sounds came from the television. My mom kissed me goodnight and reminded me to keep the volume down so I wouldn’t wake my brother.

Now, we can laugh about that night, but it truly was terrifying. We were both so relieved to discover it was just a malfunctioning toy. In hindsight, it was humorous, yet my mom still left the doll outside. It was promptly thrown away the next day.

Except that night, just as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a faint voice singing "Ring-around-the-rosie."

Chapter 2: The Uninvited Guest

The first video titled "10. The Girl Outside - The Move - YouTube" delves into the essence of childhood fears and the unexpected twists that arise from seemingly mundane events. It perfectly captures the eerie atmosphere and the unsettling realization that sometimes the things we fear are not what they seem.

The second video titled "The Girl Outside - YouTube" further explores the themes of childhood innocence and the mysteries that lurk just beyond our understanding, illustrating how a simple song can evoke both fear and nostalgia.