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A childhood belief about toys

I used to believe that my toys were alive and that, should I neglect to care for their every need, they would kill me in my sleep. Every night I wrapped them up, made sure the blanket wasn't covering their mouths (so they could 'breathe') and wished them a good night. All twenty-odd of them. Individually.
The belief that my toys were living, breathing beings was brought about after watching Toy Story, though I have no idea where the idea of them having a murderous nature came from.
Now I'm sixteen I no longer believe that my toys are alive, but I'm still a little cautious around dolls (which are obviously all evil).

— Paranoid British Kid.

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