“When I was younger, I was obsessed with dolls so for Christmas my parents bought me an old-fashioned Silver Cross pram. Whenever I held the handle bar to push it, my arms went weak, my legs went jelly, and I got a chill down my spine.
A few months after Christmas, the room where I kept the pram started smelling like chicken. We just put it down to our dogs. One day I was sitting in the lounge, when the pram slowly moved across the room. When I went over to investigate, I saw the figure of a young woman in old-fashioned clothes holding the handlebars and looking straight ahead. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
I went round the back of the pram to shoo the woman away. Just then, my favorite doll came flying out of the pram and whacked me in the arm. I picked the doll up to put it back, but I couldn’t get it back inside. I lifted the original silver cross blanket to reveal the corpse of a newborn baby.
I now hate old-fashioned Silver Cross prams, and whenever I see a person pushing one I check the pram to make sure the baby is real. I also warn the person with my story, just to be on the safe side.”