Friday Scary Story, June 19, 2015

Estate sales.

Antiques.

Beautiful items, with an interesting past.

What if the past is still alive in it?  What if it attaches to you?  What if it won't let go?


I think this is happening to me.

It was so beautiful.  It must have been given to someone out of love. When I got home, I put the ring on my finger.  Now, it won't come off.

I try.


So does someone else.  Something else.  I don't know what it is.

It has been waking me up every night.  I wake up from it trying to get the ring off my finger.

At first it just tugged on it.  Then it covered my arm and hand with scratches.

Two days ago, it bit me.  The teethmarks are still there.

Last night, when I woke up, there was a knife on my bed.


I am afraid to go to sleep.

Friday Scary Story, June 12, 2015

Drowning.

Suffocation.

I don't know how to make it stop.

It started two weeks ago.

I had heard the story about the girl.  She drowned fighting for her life.  Eight girls took their prank too far.  The pool closed for a week.

Last Tuesday I found a hair clip in the grass by the deep end.  I kept it.  I can't get it off me.  If I throw it away, it is in my hair again when I wake up.

It was hers.

Now, I see her in the pool.

She is starting to fall apart.

When I go under water, she is waiting for me.  She smiles with what is left of her lips, then starts to pull swimmers under.  One by one she holds them until they are out of breath, then releases them.

No one else sees her.

Yesterday, she got one of the girls who taunted her.  She held her under until she was dead.  There are seven more.


Please tell me...

How do I make her stop?

Friday Scary Story, June 5, 2015

Killers.

Sociopaths.

Is it learned?  Or, are you born that way.

I grew up next door to the neighborhood butcher.

He sold specialty meats.   I never ate any.

I used to watch him from my window as a little girl.  He would look up at me, then continue sharpening his knives.

As we both grew older his soulless eyes never changed.  He was a monster.  No one else could see it.


I don't know how to get out.  I am locked in a cage.  No one can hear my screams.  No one knows I am here.  The world thinks I am out finding myself before I go to college.  They don't know I am next door.

It amuses him to see my fear.  

I stopped being scared, I won't give him that.   When my time comes, he will die.  He will be the victim.

Not me.

What he doesn't know, is I learn well.  I watched what he did.  I know exactly what to do.  I will do to him, what he has done to others. This will be retribution for all the people I watched him butcher and sell.

He picked the wrong person.

This I swear.