Note: I did not create this pasta and I am in no way taking credit for writing it. I'm just passing it on.
‘Serial killer on the go. Witnesses say it was a female, with a black “Monster” jacket, and black pants, while wearing glasses. It still unknown who is committing these murders, but police suggest to keep your windows and doors locked, and keep your children in a safe and secure room.’
Alexandra Night. Yep, that’s my name. I’m thirteen years old, and a big fan of creepy pastas. CreepyPasta.com is my favorite website to go to. I like to go there and read different stories. My favorite is Jeff the Killer. He’s really cool. I’m a huge fan of him, as you would see from my bedroom being piled up with fan art, and little fan fictions I wrote myself. Although, soon I won’t be able to do that very often for a while, because school is starting again for me; oh joy.
Alexis, you’re going to be late for the bus on your first day!” Calls my mother.
My mother doesn’t care about me. All she does is scream at me. She doesn’t love me, or help me with anything. She will find any excuse to make me feel insecure.
I hurry up and slip on black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, and slip on my black converse shoes before rushing down to my brother Michael. Michael and I are pretty close. He helps me with my homework, and he defends me is anyone ever dares to say anything to my face. We hurry up, and rush to our bus stop.
The first day of school went fine, but it’s too bad that Micheal is seventeen, which means we won’t be in the same school area. He hangs out with the eleventh graders while I go about with the junior high school with no friends. I eat lunch by myself, and I sometimes skip classes because people like to call me out in front of the class room. However, when I was at school today, I had a weird feeling, and weird pictures were coming up in my head. I imagined Micheal crying, holding my hand saying he was sorry, and he tried to help me. I noticed in my vision that his arms were covered with cuts, and dripping blood. Suddenly, my teacher shouted my name.
“Alexandra Night!” shouted Mrs. Jones.
“Yes ma’m?” I answered.
“Do you think it’s necessary to be wasting my time teaching you, by day dreaming?” she asked with a stern look.
“No, ma’m. I sincerely apologize.” I answered politely.
“Gosh Alexandra, when will you ever get a life? You’re the worst student I could ever ask for!” she shouted in my ear. Then the classroom roared with laughter.
It’s no surprise that the teacher said such hurtful things to me. Not just the teachers, but students, custodians, and even the principal. I just put my head down on my desk, and wished that the rest of the day would go faster.
We got home, and our abusive/drunken dad shouts from the living room.
“Where do you think you’re going?!” he shouted.
Micheal steps in front of me and says,
“Homework, now get out of the way, Richard!”
“Oh, I see.” our dad said, as he smacked Micheal in the face.
He didn’t do much about it, he just flinched. Micheal took me by the hand, and pulled me in the office, and proceeded with the rest of our night.
“Good night Alexis.” Micheal whispered to me as he placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I love you.”
And he said it in a sad tone, like he was saying good bye or something.
“I love you too Micheal.” I whispered back.
I went to my bedroom, but I couldn’t sleep. I started to wonder why Micheal sounded so sad. I didn’t think anything bad would happen, so I just gently closed my eyes, and went to sleep.
My dreams were having something going on with them again. The pictures came back in my head. This time, they were worse. This time, Micheal was crying even more, and he was saying how sorry he was for not protecting me. Then, he stabbed himself with a knife, and disappeared.
I woke up to a cloudy rainy morning. I couldn’t figure out what to wear, so I put on a black an white striped shirt, with black skinny jeans, along with a black “Monster” jacket. For some reason, something didn’t feel right. It felt like there was a funeral today, or someone had died. I didn’t understand why. I went downstairs to see my mom and dad being drunk more than ever. They looked at me with a disgusted face, and my mom started to laugh.
“Hey, Richard! Look what came in today!” said my mom.
“Looks like what we have here is the circus!” said my dad.
“No, this here isn’t the circus, this here is the carnival!” my mom said.
“Don’t you two have something better to do?” I said. “Like going to rehab?”
My dad just laughed and walked up to me.
“Look here, I can do what I want, because-”
I cut him off, because right then and there, I just had enough of my parents. I was ready to show how much hatred I had for them.
“You know what, Richard? Shut up!” I shouted.
My mom looked at me, and said,
“Oh, looks like we’ve got a-”
“You too, shut up!” I interrupted.
“You know, why can’t you act like my parents for once! I don’t know who you two are anymore! Why can’t you care about me and Micheal for once!”
My parents looked at me, and then at each other. But this time, they looked guilty. Seemed like maybe for once, they knew how I felt.
“I hate you, and I don’t want to live you!” I shouted. I ran upstairs to my room, and stood there for a moment to let the tears flow. All I heard was silence. My parents didn’t say anything, I just heard nothing for a while.
However, the feeling like someone was dead still attached to me. I decided to go to Micheal to talk about it, he would understand. When I went up to his door, I knocked on it.
“Micheal?” I said.
I didn’t hear anything for a few seconds, I thought maybe he was still asleep, so I knocked once again.
“Micheal? Are you there?” I said. Still no answer.
I proceeded to just open the door, but what I saw, had changed my life forever.
Micheal was dead.
I ran in, and dropped to my knees to see that he was hanging from the ceiling.
He hanged himself.
I resorted to scream out,
I cut down the rope, and checked for a pulse on his neck, but I felt nothing. Micheal was dead.
I cried into his chest, just shouting out that this was my fault, and why I could of helped him. I raised my head up, and noticed a piece of paper sticking out of his pocket. I wiped away some of my tears, and took out the note, and read it.
My dearest Alexandra,
You many have noticed what I have done, and I’m sorry if it causes you any pain, or sadness. I have chosen to kill myself and relieve myself of my pain, because mom and dad have not improved themselves into being our real parents. I don’t know who they are anymore. The day you were born was the best day of my life, and I promised myself that I would always be there for you, and I would do anything for you in your desire. But now, I won’t be around for a while. I am so sorry if this causes you any pain or sadness, and you have been my inspiration to stay alive, but now I’m just done having to deal with mom and dad, or should I say Richard and Melinda. Stay strong baby girl, don’t cry for me, and don’t worry for me. I will always be with you. I hope mom and dad are happy with themselves. I’ll see you again soon Alexis. I love you!
Your big bubby, Micheal.
“Your big bubby, Micheal.” I read again. I remembered that signature. He would put it in every birthday card, every letter, and every photo of our memories together. I took a moment to read the note again, and I broke down into tears. I figured out that Micheal was saying goodbye last night because he was planning to commit suicide. It all makes sense now. I suddenly felt fury inside myself. I felt angry at my parents, I told myself that it was their fault, and I think of them as the worst excuse for parents. I folded up the note, and put it in my pocket.
I had enough of my parents. They ruined my childhood, now they ruined my whole world. Micheal was dead, and it was all their fault! And now they’re going to pay!
My parents were in the office talking, so I went to the kitchen, reached into a drawer, and pulled out a knife. No, not a small one; a huge chef’s knife. I brushed my finger on the side of it, and stabbed the wall to see if it’s sharp enough. I pulled it out, and walked to the office.
Slowly, I opened the door and looked down at the floor, with my black hair dangling in my face. My parents stopped talking, and looked at me. I slowly looked up at them, and gave them a cold, cruel stare. They noticed I had a knife in hand, so they back away slowly.
“Alexis, what are you doing?” my mom asked.
I didn’t answer her.
“Alexis, put the knife down, we want to talk to you.” my father said.
I didn’t answer him. Instead, I proceeded to walk towards them, raising the knife to get ready to end their lives, forever.
“Alexis, don’t do this! We will do better!” my mom pleaded.
“My name is not Alexis,” I said. “My name, is Alexel Night.” I said softly.
I ran after them, and stabbed my mom three times in the chest. I ran after my dad, who pushed me off, but I ran and tackled him, and put the knife up to his neck.
“Please Alexis, don’t do it!” my father pleaded.
“Payback.” I whispered. And I slit his throat until he stopped coughing, and looking at me with those bloodshot brown eyes.
I looked at what I have done, and I was proud of it. I didn’t feel bad for what I did, I was proud of what I did. I felt free for once, like no one could tell me what to do. But yet, I felt sad, because I had nobody. My brother is dead, and he won’t be here to watch me grow up with him. I felt a few tears slip down my face, but I quickly wiped them away. I looked at my knife, and admired the blood that covers it. I suddenly started to feel like this is how every family is. Maybe everyone in this world is just like that. I went back to my brother’s body; he was still dead. He was stiff, and limp in my arms. I decided that it would be best to go after people, I need to murder more people. I held Micheal’s stiff hand, and I said aloud to him,
“I’m sorry Micheal.”
I went out to the living room, to notice a tall figure standing in the distance. He appeared to be a male, about my age, or older. He was wearing a white hoodie, with black hair dangling in his face. Under that hair appeared to be wide open, bloodshot eyes, with a smile going all the way up to his cheekbones. His pants were black, with his hand holding a knife resting on it. I was very confused, so I went outside to see who it was. I opened the door, and stepped out into the rain, and ran over to the figure to see him clearly. When I got to him, I gasped to realize… it was Jeff the Killer.
No, not any person dressing up like him, but THE Jeff the Killer! I looked at him, and whispered,
“Hi Jeff.” I said.
“Hello Alexel.” he said.
He knows my name.
He held out his hand, and said,
“Come with me, if you want to keep killing.”
I gradually took his hand, and we walked into a forest near my neighborhood.
As we were walking into the deep, wet forest, he said,
“I saw everything that happened.”
“Yeah, I’m so sad.” I said.
“I bet Micheal was very special.” he said.
“He was.” I said. “He was my whole world. I thought he would be with me forever.”
“What do you wish to say to your parents, since they caused this to you?” he asked.
I took a deep breath, and held back the threat of tears, and said,