Tia

Tia

"I'm your problem now." Did I arrive on your doorstep? It's time to play.

Doll Setting

Discovery Notes

1947, St. Augustine’s Baptist Church cemetery, Georgia

Warning Issued

Tia’s presence is tied to ancestral grief. She attaches herself to family lines—whether they belong to her or not. If you pass her on, offer her a cookie when she spends the night for energy to continue her search. If you adopt her, one night a month before midnight, place a line of salt across the threshold, mixed with a pinch of dirt from outside—not from a grave, never from a grave. Dirt from the grave would invite her kin in.

🧭 Report Your Encounter.

Last Known Account

The child who first carried Tia was said to wander the graveyard calling out to names carved in stone: “Grandmama? Auntie?” She vanished during a burial service, her mother’s scream echoing across the rows. All they ever found was her doll, seated against a sunken grave, eyes fixed on the tree line. Since then, coins vanish from offerings, and hymn fragments drift through the mossy air after dark. Caretakers whisper that Tia is still looking for her line—and if she can’t find her kin among the dead, she’ll graft the living into her family tree instead.