Ghost Story: real or fake? You decide.

It was the week before Christmas, and all throughout the small town of Oakdale, people were bustling about, preparing for the holidays. But in one particular house, the preparations were a little bit different than the rest.

You see, in the Smith household, they had an unconventional holiday tradition that had been passed down for generations. It was a tradition that always caused a stir in the community, but the Smith family loved it just the same.

Every year, on the evening of Christmas Eve, the entire family would gather around the fireplace, dressed in their finest pyjamas and robes. Then, they would take turns telling ghost stories until the stroke of midnight.

Some people in the town thought it was strange, and even a little bit scary, but the Smith family loved the thrill of it all. They would huddle close together, sipping on hot cocoa and munching on holiday cookies as they listened to each other's spooky tales.

This year, as the family gathered around the fireplace, the youngest Smith, a mischievous nine-year-old named Timmy, had a special story to share. He had been working on it for weeks, and he couldn't wait to see the looks on his family's faces when he told it.

Timmy cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice trembling with excitement. "It was a dark and stormy night," he began, "and the wind was howling outside like a pack of wild wolves. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door."

The family leaned in closer, their eyes wide with anticipation. Timmy continued, "I opened the door to find a strange, hooded figure standing on the porch. 'Who are you?' I asked, but the figure didn't answer. 

Timmy couldn't believe his eyes as he stared at the hooded figure on his porch. He had never seen anything like this before. The figure was tall and slender, and it was completely shrouded in a dark cloak. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

Timmy's heart was racing as he stood there, frozen in fear. He was about to turn and run back inside when the figure spoke.

"This is for you," it said, holding out a small, wrapped package. "Merry Christmas."

Timmy hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should take the package or not. But his curiosity got the best of him, and he reached out tentatively to take it.

As soon as he touched the package, the hooded figure disappeared, leaving Timmy alone on the porch. He stood there, staring at the spot where the figure had been, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

Finally, he tore open the package, his hands shaking with excitement. Inside, he found a creepy old doll with a porcelain face and glassy eyes. Timmy's blood ran cold as he held it in his hands, feeling a sudden sense of unease wash over him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that the hooded figure was watching him, even though he knew it was impossible. As he turned to go back inside, he could have sworn he heard laughter echoing through the wind.

Timmy knew he would never forget this strange and unsettling encounter, and he couldn't wait to share the story with his family at their annual holiday ghost story tradition.

Timmy paused for a moment, letting the suspense build. Then, with a sly grin, he finished his story. "I tore open the package to find a creepy old doll inside. And when I turned around, the hooded figure was gone. But I could have sworn I heard laughter echoing through the wind."

The family sat in stunned silence for a moment, before bursting into laughter. "That was a great story, Timmy!" his older sister said, clapping him on the back. Only it wasn’t a story at all.

Timmy couldn't wait to show his family the creepy old porcelain doll that the hooded figure had given him. He ran into the living room, where they were all gathered around the fireplace, and held it out for them to see.

"Look what I got!" he exclaimed.

His family gasped as they saw the doll, with its porcelain face and glassy eyes. "Where did you get that?" his mother asked, her voice laced with concern.

Timmy told them all about the hooded figure on the porch, and how it had given him the package. As he spoke, he could see the worry etched on his family's faces.

"This is strange, Timmy," his father said, frowning. "I don't like the idea of someone just appearing on our porch like that. We should call the police."

Timmy's heart sank. He had been so excited to share his story with his family, but now he could see that they were worried and scared. He wished he had never taken the package from the hooded figure.

But as the night went on, his family tried to shake off their concerns and enjoy the rest of their holiday traditions. They told more ghost stories, ate cookies and drank cocoa, and laughed and sang carols together.

As the clock struck midnight, they all gathered around the tree to open their presents. Timmy received a new video game that he had been wanting, and he forgot all about the creepy doll.

But as he went to bed that night, he couldn't shake the feeling that the hooded figure was still out there, somewhere, watching over him. He made a mental note to be extra careful in the future, and to never accept packages from strangers again.

As the night wore on, the rest of the family took their turns telling their own spooky tales. And when the clock struck midnight, they all raised their mugs of cocoa in a toast to another successful holiday tradition.

The Smith family might not have celebrated Christmas in the traditional way, but to them, this was the best part of the holiday season. It was a time for family, laughter, and a little bit of scary fun.