CRAPPYPASTA

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The Girl

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Waking up in my creaky wooden bed to the bright orange sunrise I thought today seemed perfect for getting in a nice long jog before my parents and siblings came to visit to discuss my marriage. Lacing up my torn up converse shoes, I bounded down the brick porch eager to start my run. As I turned the sharp turn out of my house restriction, the blazing noises of terror smacked me in the face. People sprinting past me as fast as they could, all pointlessly screaming. Getting lost in the shuffle, I turned back.
After safely freeing myself from the pack I felt a certain curiousness, as any would, as to what had happened down Eight street. This interest still gives me nightmares every night.
Peering around the bend I saw a pool of darkness under the sun’s gleam on the pavement. This swirling cloud of midnight contained a dark, shadowy hunched figure, grasping a little girl over a deep crack. As the creature became less visible, sinking down, the girl noticed me, watching petrified, and unmoving. The pure terror from her turquoise eyes weakened me
so that I couldn’t breathe. Save me were the words struggling to escape from her mouth, but instead of words, darkness came out.
The darkness wafted over and enveloped me, filling me with a sense of pure dread you couldnt imagine. The shadowy figure sank into the crevice beneath the cloud, the girl clasped firmly in its hand.
In the most frightening event I’ve ever imagined, the girl was gone and the pavement sealed together; the cloud dispersing into the open air. The sky now a dark blue shadowing out the sun, I collapsed.
I awoke to a beeping sound, which sounded faintly farmiliar. Going to crack my eyes open, I found my right eye wouldn’t comply. Through my sore left eye I faintly saw a middle aged woman, crouched over in a navy blue plastic chair. The walls were pale white, and her face blended into the corner as she glanced up.
I then told my mother from my hospital bed how had I watched my little sister get taken to hell on Eight street, by the devil himself.

Credit To: Professor Clayton

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6 Comments

  1. this was a strange story I was a little confused but also thought it might be good I kinda straddle the fence because I can see potential in it but for some reason something is missing.

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  2. Very hard to follow. Try rewriting it and reading it out loud to yourself to see if it sounds right as you go. Maybe after a rewrite I can understand what the story is really about. I have to agree with Matt there is something missing here and it just doesn’t make sense.

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  3. Equivalent to Lazy Writing. Crappypasta, but with revisions it could be good.

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  4. The writer could Have made this a Brilliant/Creepy pasta, From my opinion it’s just a Shit story and Really lazy. 0/10. Down-vote.

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  5. Lazy writing or undercooked for this one I think.

    It could have been good if more effort had gone into writing it.

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  6. “Credit To: Professor Clayton”

    What? Is that trying to be some clever pun on the prof. Layton games?

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    Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

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