Rather late nights always used to bother me. I hated the sounds of the crickets and the frogs, making mating calls until dawn. Even the slightest creak at the walls would make my hair stand up on my neck. Music would never help me with my slumber; it would make it even worse.
I even would ask the doctor to prescribe me medicine. It never worked, the pills made me dry heave with a bitter taste in my mouth, and never even made me woozy. I sometimes would even ask if I could give myself injections to put me to sleep, but of course, the doctor thought nothing was wrong with me. I always looked rather healthy, even when I felt like shit.
It got worse, my anxiety. I would bite my nails to nubs; sometimes they would even begin to bleed a little. I would dip them in warm water, enjoying the sting of my tiny cuts. I would suck on my fingers until they got numb, but it was only when I was too lazy to apply pressure to my bleeding numbs.
I used to play piano, but my fingers were sore when I pressed the keys, a burning sensation beginning after a few minutes. Even messaging them would make me want to shed a few tears from the pain.
When I went out into public, I would wear my grey mittens, while listening to music on my headphones. Music was good when you didn’t use it at night; it relaxed me when I was in crowds. I paid attention to the lyrics rather than the obnoxious kids playing tag.
I hated children. And I always will. Even the thought that I was once a child made me sick to my stomach. I hope the human race stops making the brats. Even living in the small town, the children in the population drive me nuts.
I would begin to bite my fingers again when I got home. I was so mad at those children. Why didn’t they just shut the fuck up?
“Kane?” I ask, sitting down on a bench. I had just bought two apples from the farmer’s market, and it was starting to rain. “What are you doing?”
He looks at me surprised. “Sorry, I zoned out.” Kane has been basically one of the only friends I’ve had. He’s actually a best friend of mine, having the same similarities to me, but is the complete opposite, like a yin-and-yang kind of ring to it. I enjoy his company, and it’s very rare of me to like when people do that, so I hope you can see the point.
I take a bite of one of the apples, and give him the other one. “Drawing your famous characters, yes?” I ask with my mouth full, a bit of apple coming out of my mouth. “I wish they were famous,” He chuckles, wiping the pencil stains on his paper, making them smear.
“Is…Is that Jeff the Killer?” I chuckle, chewing a piece of the core, spitting a seed out, turning my apple so I can chew more of its flesh.
“Yep.” He laughs back, drawing the eyes peering to the right, with a wry crooked scar of a smile.
“He never gets any sleep, I feel bad for him, you know?” I laugh again. “Hell, he’s just like me. Tired, always putting a fake smile on his face…”
“White as hell…” Kane adds, but then chuckles out, “I kid, I kid!”
“Yeah, well which Creepypasta would you be, you son of a bitch?” I laugh; throwing my apple core into a nearby trash can near the bench.
“Slenderman?” He jokes, smearing black hair onto the killer. “Always following, not leading, I guess.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I say, sitting more straighter on the bench. “Slenderman’s pretty cool. Thin, agile, and really white too.”
“I’m not that white.”
“You are whiter than me.”
“Will this make you feel better?” He chuckles, showing me his sketchbook. I see Jeff smiling at a tall figure, looking at it will a big smile. It was Slenderman.
“You’re pretty good on the sketchbook, dude.” I answer, turning my head to the clouds.
“Are you going to be ready for tonight?” he asks, looking at the clouds.
“Yep. What about you?”
“I’m sort of nervous,” He says, continuing to sketch.
“It will be fine, I heard she’s better, no longer in pain.” I say, trying to comfort Kane.
“You sure about this?”
“I’m never sure.” I say, as he takes a bite of his apple.
Two hours after the Farmer’s Market, we arrive at the hospital. A Mental Hospital, to be exact, because our friend had tried to commit suicide. She swallowed over twenty-eight pills of toxic pain killers, with also a few gulps of vodka. The ambulance saw her drunken “corpse” at her house at three o’clock in the morning. She arrived to the hospital in April. Now it was June.
“We are just here to pick her up, correct?” Kane asks, putting his hands in his pockets. He looks rather nervous, seeing the door open automatically. “Yes, that’s all we are doing, calm down,” I answer, looking at the grey sky, as droplets of water plop on my glasses.
The door closes once we get in, the smell of sanitizer and insulin sting in the air. I can already feel my hair prick up my neck, but I gulp my fear down and walk to the lady up front.
“How may I help you, darling?” she asks me, looking at my blue eyes with a happy, optimistic smile. “Hi, my name is Skyler; I am here to pick up Angela Simmons, I heard she was ready to leave here, and I one of her friends that I believe she told you guys was going to pick up?” I say, playing with my shirt buttons, swallowing the nervousness.
“Last name, please?”
“Ah! Yes, we will get her in here right away, get sit tight!” The lady laughs, walking down the hallway. I turn my head and smile at Kane. “Halfway through this, okay?”
“Got it,” He says with a fake smile, and continues drawing. At least he can actually try to make it look realistic.
As a figure pops through the hallways, I sigh and twiddle my fingers harshly. “Skyler!”
“Hi, Angela. How are you?” I say with a fake smile, smelling Axe for Her on her shirt. “ Great! I can’t wait for today!”
“I can imagine, being in here for a while, it’s good that you see some friends before you go home,” Kane says, standing up. Angela just gives us an odd look. “You told me that today we were going to celebrate by going to Spearcrow Lake.”
My heart stops. I never said that. “Did you say it?” I say angrily, eyeing Kane as he ghastly shakes his head. Angela laughs. “You told me this morning, I was able to call you, remember?”
I look at her with deep concern. “Not really…”
“Well, can we go? I really want to relax somewhere in water besides the hospital showers. I even got my mom to send over two new swimsuit and towel, along with sunscreen; it even smells like skittles.”
I star at Kane as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “Fuck it. We are going.” I say, as Angela wraps her bare, red striped arms as they wrap around me slowly, with very cold feelings. For a moment there I felt a warm frosty breath on my neck, but I then realized it was most likely the AC, so I didn’t worry. “Yes! The other swimsuit will fit you perfectly.”
We drive the car for a solid two hours, hearing Kane’s pencil getting sharpened every now and then, with a small hint of Angela talker her damn lungs out. Gossiping about the crazy people in the hospital, how the fish sticks were sickening, and how she missed the real movie theatres, being tired of watching pirated films that the staff would find, covered in a layer of soot. She then would turn on the radio full blast to raps songs Kane and I never really enjoyed, and just tried to keep our minds clear.
After a solid half an hour I really was getting tired of her shit, as I drove quickly through the bare, unpopulated roads. That’s when I started to think of something positive. And in my mind, positive isn’t normally rainbows and sprinkles. If there was a chainsaw connected to the limbs of the unicorn, maybe I would feel better about that.
I started thinking about Jeff the Killer. A lot, too.
Huh, what if me and Kane were actually the two he drew this morning? A killing spree the both of us would go, huh. If I was Jeff, I would honestly be so happy I killed my mother. I would laugh as I saw her last emotion. I started to laugh a little in the car, and Angela thought I was laughing at one of her comments she said about something stupid.
And he, he wouldn’t really have any family really. Did Slenderman even have a family? Probably not. I would be the company of him, wouldn’t I? Kane is a good friend, after all.
I was so busy in thinking of all of this, I didn’t even realize another half an hour passed, nor did I know the radio was just playing white noise. My thoughts and insanity wiped over me, but it was like I was in a paradise of my own world, my world of zoning out.
I flip my mirror, rubbing my face. “Yeah?”
“You okay there?”
I nearly jump out my seat as I see what I look like in my reflection. “Fuck!”
“What?!” Angela shouts, grapping my shoulders. “You scared of your own reflection?”
I peek at my face again, showing that it was just my pale skin and wavy brown hair in a braid. “Sorry, I just look really tired.” I laugh, scratching my neck. Huh, man I am tired.
“Oh, well im changing the channel of the radio. I tired of hearing this fuzzy crap.” She laughs, changing the channel.
“That’s weird, this isn’t working right.”
I peek over and see the stereo flashing numbers and digits, along with letters. “That’s weird. I got this car three months ago. Nothing should be wrong.” I sigh, turning the volume down, but instead, it got louder. I try to click it off, but nothing happens, just more noise, and it begins to make my head hurt.
“Let’s pull over,” I say, chuckling nervously. I drive to the edge of the dirt road, and sigh. With hope to end the hurtful noise I pull the keys out. The sound just gets louder, and I read my stereo. No, Don’t Do That… Pull The Battery Out, And We Will Both Be Satisfied.
A trickle of cold sweat runs down my forehead, as I read a Smokey Bear Forest Fact billboard about a hundred yards away. “DANGER: Forest Fire Possibility HIGH,” it read, with a bear looking thoughtfully on the side.
Kane rubs his head. “We should just restart it,” he begins, but I show that the car is still working oddly with the keys out of the ignition.
“Should we pull the battery out?” Angela asks, beginning to pull the hood up.
The hood swings open hard, Angela’s body flying feet back. The hood fills with electrical crackles, and the smell of burnt hair.
Kane runs to Angela as I try to fan away some of the smoke. “What the hell happened?”
“I can’t feel any pulses, I think she’s dead, Skyler!” Kane shouted, pressing hardly on her singed neck.
“Isn’t that what you want, though?” A voice spoke, sounding like a man in his twenties, but it was coming from the smoke-erupting hood from the car.
“What?” I ask, fanning the smoke even harder with my shirt. Or jacket. I can’t remember.
“She was quite annoying, if you ask me,” The person chuckled. A masked face appeared from the smoke, and I fell to the ground. I quickly got up from the ground, a leathery feel on my hands as they touched the rocky asphalt.
I couldn’t hear Kane, just the sound of the car smoking. The man touched my cheek, making my mouth feel as if staples pinned across it, making me grimace in pain. “Shh.” He said, placing a cold finger on me, as his gas pipes connected to his throat pressed cool mist out, seeming like he was spreading it all over the street. The deserted road, and possibly whole city if there was one.
I feel blood leak down my lips as my eyes twitch. I want to blink them, but I can’t. I look into the man, or monster’s, two black eyes surrounded by dark blue, rotten skin.
That’s when I remember. The thing I saw in my mirror’s reflection, was Jeff.
Credit To – Maison Bray
Credit Link – email@example.com