I know.


The lights come on; the darkness shines again.

The good feelings slide down her body and onto the floor like a dress made out of silk and the weight returns to her shoulders. And there she stands, naked and covered in darkness, under the bright lights that reveal the skeleton of the stage; the flesh and bones of the magical beings she was one with only seconds ago. It is a long and quiet walk back to the hotel room. There are so many feelings, so many reactions and too many thoughts racing through her right now. She smiles. Forever.

The light leaves her eyes and fills the room.

She lies on the bed all night long. Her body enjoys its comfort during these eternal seven hours during which she cannot fall asleep. Buzzing in her head, ringing in her ears, a smile glued to her tired yet blissful face and that feeling devouring her heart and soul. It eats her away, but not in the way that you’d think. It eats her away and makes her whole again. It fills these empty spaces, the dots on the map, the blank spaces in the story. And she’s being chewed on all night. And all morning. And all week. And it never ends.

The light leaves the lamp and fills her heart.

She recalls that night where darkness was home to light and she was all lit up. The stage had her. Her eyes, her ears, her heart and mind. Not a piece of her was kept to herself. She was wide open and her insides enjoyed the fresh air for once. She recalls home as she stands in the middle of her dark room. She looks outside and sees the lighters held up high in the sky. And as she eagerly presses the button on her phone, the first note hits her and takes her back to the stage. Now she’s standing on it, with her heroes besides her and she is the one she knows she is growing to be. She closes her eyes and lets the rain inside drown out the beat of her impatient heart.

The light leaves the moon and goes back to the sun. But the darkness inside is not gone nor is the revived flames and the eternal light, and they eat away at her. Forever. And she smiles.


This was my attempt at writing how attending the Avenged Sevenfold show made me feel. I wrote it in my phone while I was dizzy on my way back home the morning after with zero sleep and eventually forgot about the note. And as I was looking through my phone a few weeks ago I saw it again and I thought that it was really interesting. So I edited it and then eventually read it in a video on channel #2 BUT I somehow never found the time nor the will to really publish it on here! But, finally here it is! x)

Attending this show was like one of the best things that happened to me so far this year. It just gave some truths I already was familiar with a much louder voice and it was like a sweet sweet REMINDER.

Out there, in the dark, the noise, the crowd, the fire (thank you Disturbed for the pyrooooo!!), I found my place. At first, I wanted to title this text “Homesick from shows” because that’s how it felt like and still feels like. I was in a perfect place where I could breathe and feel my everything just smile at the universe and I had to walk away from it and into a dull room filled with bitterness and anxiety; that hollow polka dotted shell.

And for the following weeks, I wore the biggest smile and I was just filled with everything good, everything strong and I still had that feeling inside of me. It had become like a second skin but one that I wore under my flawed flesh bag, like warm tights under my worn out jeans in winter. And it kept me feeling strong for a long while. Then, yes, I had a bit of a good fall but it only showed me where I stood or at least, where I aimed to stand once I could cement my bones back together again.

When I read these few paragraphs again last week for my video, I just felt the fire burn inside of me. It was like the flames were reacting to my reading out loud those words, like my nephew reacting to my sister’s laughter or my dog to my calling his name. The flame inside was rejoicing as I was re-discovering its existence and giving it enough space to breathe anew.

I was assaulted by yet another wave of darkness, that hit me real hard. And it only added to the heavy cloud I carry around. Half of me might still be down or maybe less. But it doesn’t matter. The mayhem inside, the light from the show is here and the many flames that I am, alongside the rain that is also me; it’s all still here and it fuels me. Just like my fear. And just like my joy and the kind loving words of the souls that I encounter. I don’t live like I’m not alive anymore. I am stronger now and I can clearly see where I’m aiming, and I won’t stop shooting. I’m not allowing myself to stand in my way anymore!

I already knew. I always knew that this was what I wanted. But after that night, I knew.

This isn’t a dream anymore nor has it actually ever been. It isn’t just something to believe in and hope for it to happen, hope that I have what it takes to make it happen. No. After that night, it was crystal clear; it is truth, a fact, a reality that I only have to walk towards. It is happening. It will happen. There is no other way. Not because I hope it will; not because I have decided it will. Because there is no other way. This is the reality that I have been walking towards ever since I learnt how to and even when I wasn’t noticing, every step that I laid before me (and sometimes behind or above/underneath; fuck straight lines) were and still are leading there.

I don’t think the Universe is merciless, I think it is full of love and compassion and if you show it your heart, it’ll help. Maybe there is such a thing as fate, but maybe it isn’t such a sad thing as a steel path your ankles are chained to and you have to follow forever. Maybe it is that dull pre-written grey path that we all are set out to walk on as we come into this world… But maybe with our ability to love, hope, dream, and all of that magic of the soul, it slowly becomes filled with flowers and trees and sunshine, and whatnots as we walk through it, and through life as the universe reads each of our hearts’ sighs and sends us these ladders and fuel tanks when it deems are wishes honest enough. I don’t know about that, I can only make up these little stories like a kid and try to explain the unexplainable to my underused ape brain.

But what I’m sure that I know now is what I want. And from now on, I’ll be walking towards my reality while actually looking at it, and seeing its shiny top far away on the horizon and following that damn light. I’m not walking a confused walk anymore. I see it. I know it. And I’m happening.

I am the fire. And I know how I want to burn.

Everything you need is already inside of you, it’s just all up to you to decide what you use, how much, how long and what for. I know you probably hear that a lot around you and it sounds so cliché and maybe you’re one of those that are like “seek of hearing this Hakuna Matata motto from people who won the lotto but [you’re] not that lucky” (direct quote from Set It Off’s Why Worry, awesome song, go listen!!!). But lemme tell you, I’ve been in places, situations, states of mind and I’ve seen and heard stories, and I can assure you that YOU ARE THE KEY. And I know that it’s usually pretty hard to realize it, especially when you’re deep in the whole, been there, done that. But it is indeed true. And that’s why I will keep repeating it while I still can, while I still stand.

This is one of those things that you know deep inside of you. You have the power over your life, maybe not always completely with all the money bullshit and such, but always over how you experience things, how you react and how you let it all impact you. Sometimes you need a reminder. So I’ll keep repeating it, to remind myself, and remind you.

You are the fire. You are the fuel. You can get up. You can stand up again. And you can decide where to go, who to be. It’s all up to you. The key’s in your hands,down your throat, in your heart. Trust yourself and let your light shine.

Anyways. I hope I did spread some light or at least a few sparks. And hmm, well… Until next post, don’t forget. ❤

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The Joy Graveyard – unfinished and ??? story?


The only reason I am posting an unfinished and poorly written story is that I had the lovely idea of filming a video for my second channel where I read it, badly. So I figured I’d link to a written version of it because I didn’t do an awesome job at reading it mostly because I’m tired but really just because it’s me. So here we go! (You can click here to watch the video if you’re a brave soul)


The Joy Graveyard (?need a better title?)

This is the story of a girl who knew better. For inside her heart, where most would bury their rancor, she kept all that was dear to her. She knew better than to let hate devour the light and the love in her. Most people would bite their tongue and tell not where they hurt; they would swallow the rage and the poisonous fire but never mention how upset an event/a person left them. But not her for she knew better than to let the darkness destroy her like it did her forefathers. No, she wouldn’t trap the hate out of sight and let it consume her insides. When she’d bite her tongue, it’d be for a laugh or a smile.

She had seen, countless times, how slow and painful a death such a life brings. And she had witnessed the terrifying explosion that happens when too much has been shoved down the throat and all the burning poison, like a herd of suns, rushes out of a person’s mouth and attacks anything it lays eyes on. With her wide eyes, she had watched the decay, the destruction, the darkness reign over these people and replace them piece by piece, throwing the human away and leaving only rotten flesh and hollow bones; demons.

She knew better than. Or at least so she thought.

This is the story of a girl who never laughed and barely smiled but lived maybe to be the happiest of them all. She had figured out the key to happiness, or at least, how to shield oneself against the darkness and leave this world as human as we entered it. She took all the sparks, all the light and buried it deep inside her heart. She filled herself with blue skies and bird songs. She swallowed all her smiles before they even reached her lips, she choked on her laughter and packed them tightly in tiny jars and planted them in the soil of her heart, the deepest she could reach.

As years passed by, the joy kept stacking up inside. Her friends and family kept wondering why she was always so sad and not laughing, why did she never seem to be having a good time? And she never said anything to them because they were all fake happy and couldn’t understand. To pretend was their way of life. She was happier than they could ever have wished to be.

With all this happiness inside of her, she was all set for life; she didn’t have to worry about facing tragedies because she could always reach inside to get some light. Would some bad luck strike her, she’d just open one of those jars, dig up a few smiles and she’d make it out alright. And there was always something to smile or laugh about, so she’d keep harvesting and would never run out.

Only once in her whole lifetime had she been so full of happiness that she had a breakdown. And like she predicted it was nothing destructive. It was a moment of pure happiness where she contaminated everyone in the room. It was on her twenty fifth birthday, when her mom had flown all the way from the other side of the earth to surprise her and she stood there in the middle of her tiny apartment with her friends, her boyfriend and a new dog. She was just full to the brim and after a single tear ran down her cheek, she broke the concerned silence with a laughter. Her mother cried when she saw her smile and laugh like that, like she hadn’t in forever. And the whole day was cheerful and everybody was happy and having a good time; not pretending. But that was the only time.

After that, she just kept stacking and stacking. The light was a little harder to find as the tragedies finally found her. She lost her dog. Then her mom. Eventually, her job. And maybe bits of her mind too. But life still went on and she could still reach inside to drink from those tiny jars on those long nights she’d cry herself to sleep. The world grew darker around her as her hair also progressively lost their color, but she still sought the light. She kept looking for it, eventually it got to a point where there were only sparks to be found but she’d manage to catch them and bury them just the same. And on the day she finally went to visit the clouds, she had the biggest smile on her face. 🙂


You can chose a path of self-destruction and allow hate to enter your heart and eat away at your soul or you can chose to let the light, no matter how small a spark, how weak a flame it is be the one riding shotgun. I think that’s mostly the idea I had in mind when I wrote this.

I believe it was the day right after the a7x show when I was on my way back “home” after a sleepless night at the hotel. I was in the metro and I just had a lighting hit my head and try to write the idea as quick as I could with my eyes half open.

As per usual, my writing this idea into a story is taking it to an extreme. And I don’t think that this girl truly knew better nor had the key to happiness. But I think she was onto something! 😉

You really do have power over your life and how the story unrolls and the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can make the choice to actually take charge! It’s easy to let the darkness consume you, it’s really easy. And I know that it always seems like a good idea to just bury what’s bad inside and never mention it, never think about it, just look away. It feels safer and for a while you feel like you’re actually okay and you can lead a normal life. But it kills you slowly and silently, like a gas leak in your house while you’re asleep. It is not the solution.

I believe you have to face the darkness inside and outside and seek the light. Easier said than done, I know! But evil ways always seem so much more painless and easier at first sight, it’s on the long run that you truly see how destructive they are. You can run, but you’ll never escape because it’s all inside of you and all around you anyway, so looking away is actually a pretty silly thing to do. Build up walls and paint them the color of the rainbow but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s dark outside and it’s raining inside of you.

It can be hard and painful sometimes to face the darkness. And some things you really can’t deal with and have to bury as deep as you can because they are just too much. I know. I just think that you need to try your hardest to keep the dark out of you, and especially those silly things that can turn into bitter acid in the back of your throat after you’ve let them sit in here for too long. Hate is a big no-no to me.

My point is, you have the choice and the power and it’s you who decide what eats you and what you eat. So think twice or thrice before holding grudges over those people who didn’t take out the trash once when it was their turn to, those who never gave you back those twenty bucks they borrowed, those who broke you and those who taught you life a little too hard. Don’t let hate and darkness be the master of your life; you are not a puppet so stand up to yourself and keep your soul as safe as you can.

I’m done! Thanks for reading! I’ll leave you with a very fitting quote of Hayley (MY QUEEN) Williams. Until next post, don’t forget to sit down, breathe and think before choosing to go left or right. ❤

“I have the ability to build myself up or break myself down. Strength comes from within. […] “B.O.Y.” means “Beware Of You”. Be aware of your power. We have the choice to live positively or in our own destruction.”

Meteorites


(Read it on my Booksie if you’re more into black on white 😉 )

And before you start, may I suggest that you listen to the song that inspired the story while you read? Enjoy.


We were going so fast, so fast. The air felt like it was running on my cheeks as we went against the current. Hands held tight through the sweat, all we knew was which foot to lift next. Time was suspended and the world had disappeared. There was only us; the dark horizon and us. And we kept running. If this was a chapter in a book, I thought to myself, it would be the nineteenth. The reader’s grip would tighten around the book as we ran inevitably toward its last words, just as my hands were tightening around hers; I didn’t want this story to end either.
As we neared the hill, our speed decreased allowing Time to catch up on us. We looked at each other in order to gather some strength. The eye contact worked its magic and we made our way to the bump, moving faster through the stitches in our sides. My mind was suddenly caught in a storm of thoughts. We were leaving so much behind; everything, actually. But we had each other and this new empty space was ours now to fill. The future, the pain, the darkness, nothing felt as scary anymore. We were always going to be together to face life and its side-effects and it was all that truly mattered. Maybe we were so young and naive as my mother had told me times over; we sure were. Maybe we didn’t know much about anything; our young age made us nothing but fools to the eyes of the wise. But we knew what love was and we believed in it. We knew Love and that was far better than any sanity these people seemed to cling onto. I didn’t think that loving was an act of foolishness but I sure observed how lack of it turned hearts bitter. Her breathlessness dragged me out my thoughts. I lifted her chin and wiped the drops of sweat on her forehead. She took my hand in hers and we kept ascending to the top of the hill.
When we finally stopped, it felt unreal. I was lost, almost confused. Although we had barely reached the limits of our small town, I felt as if we had entered another world. We really weren’t that far, just a few blocks away. She came close to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. From there, we could see the abundance of lampposts and the houses of everyone we knew. It was beautiful. Not because of the way the street lights shone and made the town look like a camera lens covered in raindrops. Nor because of how the different colored rooftops made it look like a cosy blanket from above. No, it was beautiful like that one colorful image at the end of your first real book, one with only words; the beautiful image you stared at for a while after having swallowed all the black ink. It was breathtaking like the grand finale of a tragedy. It was our happy ending. She let go of me and went closer to the edge to sit down. I took a moment to appreciate the movement of her hips as she walked before joining her on top of the city. Her hair swayed in the midnight summer breeze and it made my whole body shiver.
“We were like meteorites.”, she said with the widest smile. She turned to look at me. Her smile had gently lifted her cheeks and made those lines I cherished so much appear on the outer corner of her eyes. “You and me, Molly.”, she added. “We flew through the streets like meteorites!” She was so beautiful. I wished I could escape Time for a billion little seconds just so I could stare at her face at that precise moment for a little longer… I smiled at her and made the silent promise to myself to keep those pretty lights burning in her eyes for as long as I’d live. She laid a hand on my thigh and locked eyes with me. “Together burning bright. When we crash, we’ll crash together, won’t we?”
I leaned in and kissed her. Our lips collided and I felt her warm breath on my skin. I breathed in the fire and we burned together, consumed by our foolish passion. In all my life I had never known flames so soothing as the ones she threw me in that night. We rolled on the grass like the wild things that we were. I was losing my sanity to the rhythm of our hearts, beating in harmony as our bodies danced the night away.  With her head buried in my neck, I looked up to the moon. And then I recalled how my mother once told me: you can only kill fire with fire. So I let myself completely melt underneath her loving touch and we went up in smoke.

I rested my head on her chest as she played through my hair with her precious hands; her skin smelled like smiles and sunshine. I listened carefully to every beat of her heart while I traced eights on her stomach with the tip of my index finger. “We won’t ever crash.”, I told her. “We will collide and burst into sparks. And like stubborn birds, we’ll rise from our ashes and burn again, only brighter each time. Our love will never die; we will never die.” I got up on my arms and kissed her once again. My cheeks absorbed the tears that had invaded hers and I made the night disappear.


In case you didn’t know, I’m all about horror. I write mostly horror, watch mostly horror, read mostly horror and think mostly horror. So I was quite surprised as I sat down in the darkest corner of my room last night with a cup of tea and wrote a love story, i.e. no blood, no demon, no murder, no violence, just poetry and butterflies. I blame it on the shower and the song. 😛
The words flew so smoothly, so naturally, it felt amazing! The song kept playing in repeat in my headphones and I felt like I was floating. Had ’em chills slow dancing up and down my spine while each sip of tea would warm my insides. It was a beautiful experience. I missed feeling like this. The state I’m in is always different depending on what media I’m working with but it’s always so enjoyable and so magical in its own way. I love art. I love all the weapons I have and I really only want to play them forever.
Anyways, no need to make this any longer! Let me know down in the comments if you think I did well, for a horror freak! 😉
Spread the love! ❤

Girls always take forever in the bathroom!


Here’s a new short story I wrote about self-consciousness and insecurity. It’s called Girls always take forever in the bathroom (obviously).


Alicia woke up and headed to the bathroom for her morning routine. As always, she took five minutes of her time to scan her features in the mirror. She ran her hands on it, caressing the gorgeous girl standing behind the looking-glass. Her reflection was so beautiful; she had everything right. “Look at her, so confident!” she said with a bitter tone. Alicia looked so pretty in there, she thought, but how come she looked different in pictures? When she took selfies, she looked ugly, to say the least; her face wasn’t the same. She kept staring at the girl, feeling her insides getting smothered by envy. “I wish I looked more like you…” she whispered. She turned around and wiped the tears on her cheeks.
“Her face is symmetrical enough for her to look perfect. She’s so pretty.”, she sighed. She put a lot of pressure on herself regarding her beauty but she never seemed to reach her own high standards, whereas that girl in the mirror was all she dreamed of looking like. She was always one step ahead of Alicia. She turned around slowly to face her reflection. “She’s a pleasure to look at!” Her lips shifted into a bitter pout and her stare grew sharper. Everything was wrong. She felt useless; she was a complete failure at her favorite things in life and she couldn’t even match her reflection, yet she tried so hard! That girl wasn’t even doing anything and always ended up better than her.
Alicia took her phone swaying on the edge of the washstand like a tightrope walker. She glanced angrily at her reflection before taking a selfie. “I look like shit! Look at this! I’m a mess!”, she said pointing her phone to the mirror. In an emotional outburst she threw her phone against the door and started yelling. “Stop it! Stop being better than me!” She was so mad. “I want to be pretty! Stop it you fucking bitch! STOP IT!” She was now banging on the glass surface with her hands. “STOP IT. I WANT TO BE PRETTY! I WANT TO BE PRETTY!” She kept yelling those words over and over but with her head banging on the mirror this time. With each hit small cracks appeared and they were soon filled with Alicia’s blood. She banged and banged and banged; and then she stopped.
She crouched to pick up her phone. Again facing the mirror, she looked at her reflection then back at herself through her phone’s selfie camera, and they were both covered in blood. But still, somehow, the bitch in the mirror managed to look better than she ever had. Her head was pounding, but she kept staring. She tried to smile but it looked more like an evil smirk on her reflection. And with all the malevolence its features were filled with, she still looked better than Alicia. Envy had enveloped her heart and this was the straw that broke her back; she was done. In a last resort, she banged her head against the piece of glass again and harder than before, causing blood to splash pretty much everywhere this time. All her hope was gone; if she hadn’t slipped in the pool of her own blood and fell to the floor, she wouldn’t have stopped.
Alicia’s mother was tired of always hearing those same fights every morning. It was always the same tune and she got used to it with time. But when she heard the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, she ran to the bathroom to check on her daughter. The door was locked so she knocked multiple times, calling out Alicia’s name while she did so. After several knocks, she forced it open only to find her baby girl lying on the ground with her forehead cracked open but still wearing that stupid frown on her face. “You’re still ugly as fuck!”, she said. She laughed like a maniac with her finger pointed to Alicia’s face. She was still fading and in indescribable pain. She gathered all the strength she had left to let out a scream. “Stoooop!”
Alicia yelled as she awoke from a bad dream. Her mother rushed in the room. “What is it baby?!”

“Mom, I keep having that same nightmare! It won’t stop! It’s always the same!” she whined.

“Oh, you’re really self-conscious about that zit on your forehead aren’t you?”

“… I guess so… It’s so embarrassing.” she blushed.

“Oh, honey. It’s just a yearbook picture, maybe I should bring mine out so you can see that not everyone gets to have a perfect picture every year.”, her mother said.


There you go! Hope you liked it! 😉

Also, there’s something (bad?) going on with my Booksie account right now. I don’t know what it is but I contacted the team to see what’s up. I’ll update when I get a reply. I hope nothing’s wrong.

HOMECOMING


I found this weird story on a girl’s blog yesterday and I’m glad I saved it cos the blog was deleted a short while after I copied and pasted it on my computer. You can think it’s fake, it’s all up to you. But something you can’t deny is that it’s dangerous out there and there are things in the dark, and they’re not waiting anymore. We’re not safe anymore.



Last night was my first night at the hotel. After a long and warm shower, I lied on my bed thinking it was not such a bad thing after all and that the week I’ll spend here could actually be enjoyable. I felt really cozy and comfortable. The place looked so nice I thought I wouldn’t even want to go out anymore to do what I came here for.

I heard a knock on the window and brushed it off – it was probably a bird. I didn’t even bother moving and grabbed my book to down a bunch of chapters before sleeping. Another knock brutally cut me in the middle of a word – it was definitely just some jerk having some midnight fun or something. My eyes sank back in the ink of my old book, only to be stopped again by a third knock; multiple knocks, actually. The jerk seemed to not have enough fun already and decided to annoy the fuck out of me. I ran my fingers through my hair and yelled. “Can’t you fucking stop already?” But it didn’t stop, instead, it got louder and louder.
I jumped off the bed and walked, with my blood on the edge of boiling in my veins, towards the window. Then I stopped in my tracks a few feet away from it when a thought occurred to me – my room’s on the fifth floor. The crazy knocking had stopped. My heart couldn’t help but race in my tiny chest and I could feel pearls of sweat starting to form on my forehead. I took a minute to rationalize; there couldn’t be anyone behind those red velvet curtains, so why would I flip my shit out? Then, I realized that this was exactly the reason why. I let a deep breathe in and in a rapid though shaky way, opened the curtains… Nothing.
I breathed again and turned around to find my book on my bed but it knocked again. Three times. I froze. I didn’t want to turn around of course but something made me change my mind – the wind. I could feel the wind blowing on my bare legs which could not be possible as the window was closed last time I checked. I slowly lifted my left foot and as I started to move my neck, I heard a knock. On the door this time; my door. I was getting really mad at this point so I ran to the door and opened it quickly to scream at whoever would show up behind it.
“What the fu– ”, I choked. There was a guy from the hotel staff standing there with a sorry look on his face and a little basket full of tiny bottles of shampoo and body lotion and fucking chocolates. “Hmm, is this for me?” I asked after staring at him for too long I presume.
“Yes, it is but–” I grabbed the thing from his hands (I really like chocolate) and then questioned him with my eyes while I ate one with a blue package. He hesitated a bit and then he continued. “Ma’am, you’re not supposed to be in this room. We made a little mistake.”
“So, that’s what the basket’s for? Why thank you. Feel free to make more mistakes, sir.” I said with a wink that had no impact on his attitude whatsoever; I guess my friends lied when they said I was attractive when I do that. “Why do you keep looking over my shoulder? You need something there or–”
“Can you follow me now? I will guide you to a better room.” He looked more nervous by the second.
“Yeah, sure, just let me grab my things.” I didn’t want to stay here anyways so off I went with the cute hotel staff. I turned around ready to head to my bed but he grabbed me by the wrist and with a serious look on his sweaty face he said: “We should really go, now.” I didn’t protest anymore and followed him to the lift in my panties(Should I mention there were teddy bears all over them? Which is probably why he didn’t react to the wink now that I think about it…).

He talked to me as if nothing had happen on our way to my new room and explained that tomorrow morning “the guys” would bring me my stuffs. He was really nice and extremely good at hiding secrets it seemed. I went to sleep without hearing any knocks and woke up with my bag and my things inside outside my door. There was also a little tissue with numbers on it: 0905152306. I just assumed it was the cute guy’s phone number and that I actually didn’t fail my seduction plan.
Little did I know that it was actually a date and a time. I’ve only just discovered it as I’m typing this for whoever out there will read. Saturday, September 9th. I’ve only got six minutes left until we reach 23:06 and then I don’t know what will happen but my computer will send this in twelve minutes so I might be able to record what happens then for you. If I die – why would I die, huh? – I think this could help, I don’t know, maybe the police or just curious lil’ shits on the internet looking for thrills or whatever. I just really have no idea what could happen, maybe it was a joke, but I just took some precautions in case something do happen and it’s bad.

So here we are, it’s already 23:07 and I’m still here, nothing happened. We can all go home and rejoice. Wait. No, it’s not possible. I think I just heard a knock on the window. I can’t stay here, I’m going to grab my keys and leave.
Okay. I can’t find my keys. It just knocked again. I want to go. Please. I know no one can read this just yet but I need help. I don’t want to scream, maybe it could hear me and I’m not sure I want that. I should’ve stayed home, I’m sorry dad, I’m sorry mom. I just wanted to feel a bit freer. It’s knocked again. I think this was the last warning. It’s gonna come and get me. It’s gonna come and get me. My message will be sent in two minutes but there was so much I wanted to say. Oh my. It’s here. I don’t know how it got in through the window but it’s here. And it’s walking towards me. So tall. So dark. Oh God, what is this? Why me? It walks so slowly but it’s staring at me. I can’t stop typing I’m so scared. It’s getting close. It’s got a 

(The message was followed by four blank pages which turned out to be full of one word written all over the pages in capital letters and white color: HOMECOMING. I don’t know what that means but it surely ain’t something good. We’re not hunters anymore; we’re the preys. Be careful in hotels, guys.)



Another creepypasta submission. Wrote it a bit as a parody in the style of some crappypastas I’ve read. But it still gives a bit of chills imo, even though it’s a bit funny!

The truth behind the wind


When I was younger, I liked to imagine a big man made of clouds blowing on the trees to make them all sway in rhythm. But I always wondered where he went when they would stop moving. Yesterday, against my will, I found out the answer to my question. There’s no such thing as a cloud man blowing on things. The truth is less magical and rather disgusting.

I went to the park to have some fun with friends when one of them threw the ball in the woods. I volunteered to go pick it up and that’s where I saw it, the real master of the wind. A five feet tall naked creature with wrinkles all over its body, it had long white frizzy hair and a wart on the tip of its disgusting nose. It saw me and blew me away – literally. It opened its old mouth and let out a stinky fog that sent me out of the woods.

It’s been five hours this started now, and my legs have finally fully faded. It won’t be long until my hands do the same, and then the rest of me will turn into those things you call clouds. I take the time I have left to write this as a warning to you, all of you, don’t go near the woods that move and don’t ask silly questions.

 


So I’ve been starting this little “book” thingy on my wattpad account called Horror Shots which is basically a collection of mostly tiny stories that aren’t really creepy but do give chills sometimes. They’ve all been submitted to the creepypasta website even though I believe that if there’s a chance for them to get published, they’ll end up on the crappypasta website! Haha

The truth behind the wind is, I believe, the best of the six that I have written so far which is why I’m sharing it on my blog.

 

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Shots of horror! Very short waste of time! Free! Come on, come all!!


If you’re interested in reading more(if you want a good awkward laugh it’s THE plan) here are the links:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/67506742-horror-shots