Thursday, 6 August 2009
12:08:53 AM (GMT)
Wondering why the title's like that (and why its so long?) ? Well.. I am fucking
tired of Kupika drama drama! Damn.. :P
1. I mean people fighting over proper capitalization and punctuation
2. A lot of trolls.. And I mean A LOT..
August 6, 2009
Life is good.. We haven't had classes for two days straight! But of course I
have to do my 3 projects.. :1 is overdue.. 2 are to be passed tomorrow.. God I'm such
a slacker.. Oh well.. Stupid me.. I have no self-control.. Probably gonna be on until
10 AM. (That's like one hour away..)
It wasn’t a big deal at first, you know? It was just another story online, one
you’d read in the comments of a YouTube video, designed to scaring you into posting
it on eight other videos. You know the kind, where you die a horrible death or your
crush will reject you if you don’t spread the word? I didn’t think anything of it
at the time, but now it’s the only thing I can think about.
The comment started by saying that “she hasn’t left [the poster] alone in days”
and “by reading this, she’ll come for you.” I don’t even remember the exact
wording because it was late and I was tired and I’d seen a hundred other comments
like it before.
I forgot all about it.
Until she started coming after me.
It started with little things. A flash in the corner of my vision, a strange shadow
on the hallway floor. Then it got worse. I started to hear whispering when I was
alone in the house, giggling, the sound of footsteps. I now know that she was teasing
me. Sort of like how a cat will clamp its paw over a mouse’s tail and bat at it
before it kills it.
Mirrors were the worst. She liked to stand just out of frame when I was brushing my
hair, so when I shifted my head to get the other side, she would be there, standing
next to the bookshelf, with her long, tangled hair, matted with blood, falling down
her shoulders. And that grin.
Oh, God, that grin.
Her teeth were always bloody. I was never sure if it was her blood, or… I don’t
Every night it seemed to get worse. I would see her on my way to class, in the rear
view mirror of my car, dragging her talon-like fingernails across her own, rotting
flesh as I stared in abject terror.
For a while I put it off to sleep deprivation. Finals, you know?
And then she came to me.
It was late, so late it was technically early. I couldn’t sleep because all I could
hear was her giggling. I covered my face with the pillow and shut my eyes tight, when
I felt something cold on my hand.
I was paralyzed with fear. It was sharp and it was cold and it was moving down my arm
towards my elbow.
“Come out to play,” she said in that lilting, upsetting voice I’d heard one too
many times before.
I screamed and sat up but she was gone. For the moment.
My biggest mistake was when I talked to her. I’d just stepped out of the shower and
she was right there when I opened the curtains. I shrieked and stumbled back and she
leaned down to me.
“Why?” I asked. “Why are you doing this?”
She told me why. It was because I knew something about her. That altercation ended
with a serious head injury that landed me in the hospital.
That’s where I am now.
I can’t take this anymore. I’m just one person, it’s too much. I know what I
have to do. I think I always knew.
God, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.
Her name is Nora. She should be there soon.
Last edited: 6 August 2009