Bits and dolls

First nightmare: pretty much eaten by second nightmare. All I can remember of the first is there was fire. Nothing else

Dream: majority eaten by second nightmare. My cousin Shanna was due to have a baby soon (little girl) and her mom was freaking out in a son to be a grandmother again happy spastic way. Apparently there were a lot of preparations that needed to be made. Totally. Spastic.

Second nightmare: in my porcelain doll collection at some point I'd been given a wooden doll to add. Her face consisted of two pieces where one was kind of a 3/4 pie shape with rounded edges that was her right eye/right side of head and all the lower head; this is from her protective, but if you were looking at her. The other 1/4 was her left eye and head from just about cheek bone and up.
  Get hair was a dark brown, kind of stringy, but thick, down to just below mid-back with bangs. The wood OB her face has been painted a flesh color at some point, but had mostly faded back to the visible grain of wood beneath. The lightest of pink color was still visible on her cheeks. Her lips a couple shades lighter than blood red. Barely visible blue eye shadow with what once were long, black eyelashes, now mostly gone over time. Her eyes were brown.
  She wore a dress that looked to be hand made and faded with years with little nicks in the fabric here and there. It was a velvet dress, long, with long sleeves and white trim, now more yellowed by time. Get shoes were black, slip on, with white socks. And she was always smiling.
  Having a weird feeling about the doll, when I received her I was very thankful, but once behind closed doors hid her away behind the other dolls. She apparently did not like that much. Over time are world show up having fallen on the floor off the shelf when there was no way she could have without the other dolls having been knocked down in front of her. Sometimes waiting in the bathroom. Sometimes watching me during the night and I would discover her in my bed when I woke in the mornings.
  I tried throwing her away, but she just returned, always smiling. Until the day I tried to burn her with fire. All that did was piss her off. The three quarters piece of her face was charred, but the one quarter piece all looked fine. And that one permanent smile was more a snarl as she moved of her own volition towards me with a carving knife from my mother's kitchen.
  I managed to escape her and found myself in a hotel cities away. I dared not sleep and made sure all the doors and windows were locked. I called a friend who joined me, though thought I was crazy. Exhaustion finally came over me and I passed out.
  I the early morning light, I awoke to find my friend dead, bleeding out into the carpet and the doll standing before me, knife in hand, smiling.