Paranoia

       You know that blissful feeling that you get at the end of a long school year? That feeling of having no homework, no teachers and just no obligations for three months? Well I don't have that. You heard me right, my next year's English teacher - Miss Archibald - is an absolute bitch. On the last day of school the old bat decides to give us summer homework... I had no idea that those two words could be used in the same fucking sentence! Now the homework assignment wasn't TOO difficult, I mean we just have to write a short story about anything over the whole break, but the fact that she is even trying this shit is what really pisses me off.

       My best friend Aaron - brown hair, short, half-Asian, good student, yeah the usual teacher's pet - had a pretty good idea. He said that he was going to make a Creepypasta. I know what you're all thinking, "This guy's gone crazy.", well I haven't... Not the way you think at least... Well anyways, Creepypasta is a website full of, mostly short, scary stories made by random users. I have always been drawn to anything horror so I, as usual, decided to take Aaron's idea and to do that same thing, I mean it is supposed to be just a short story after all.

       Over the next few days, I spent almost the ENTIRE time inside my room with the door locked, reading these Creepypastas and when I got tired of reading, I decided to look them up on YouTube and LISTEN to them and the whole time the only food I had were chips... Lots and lots of chips... Yeah, I'm not sure I have ever been this tired of the cool ranch flavored Doritos on my entire life. Some of the stories were fucking amazing like Psychosis and Smile Dog, but the more famous ones like Slenderman, Jeff the Killer, etcetera were really cliché and, in my opinion, pretty boring. There was one though that seriously scared me shitless. I can't seem remember the name, but it was terrifying. It started with this guy in his mid-twenties living alone in a house and he was being haunted by some entity or whatever. I know, the story was still pretty cliché, but for some reason it really sent shivers down my spine when I read it. The only thing that stopped my Creepypasta binge was Aaron coming over to stay the night at my place.

        He and I hung out, talked about his HOT new girlfriend and played some games before getting bored. This wasn't your everyday boredom though, not at all... We were almost as bored as we are at church on Sundays! After cycling through an ass-load of triple A games, some indie titles and even scouring the PlayStation store for an hour, we decided that we might as well begin writing our stories to get our summer homework out of the way. There was one problem however... Neither of us had any fucking clue what we were going to write about! So with that amazing feat of stupidity, Aaron and I decided to call it a night. The two of us claimed our spots on the semi-small couch, laid down our sleeping bags and went to sleep (no Jeff the Killer reference intended).

3:33 AM

       I woke up after a whopping two whole hours of sleep, freezing my ass off. Somehow during the night I had unzipped my sleeping bag and rolled out of it, allowing it to fall onto the floor. To make matters that much worse, someone – I'm not going to point fingers, but I'm positive that it wasn't me – had gotten up in the middle of the night and opened the window. It must have been freaking sub-zero in there because I could see my breath, and let me tell you something... YOU SHOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO SEE YOUR BREATH INDOORS! Anyway, I stood and closed the window, careful to be as quiet as possible and stopping mid-step to flip Aaron the bird for trying to turn me into an icicle. I then picked my sleeping bag up off the floor, placed it back onto the couch and immediately fell back asleep.

5:46 AM

        I again wake up way earlier than I should, but this time it's not because I was cold. No, this time I woke up because I had the imperative urge to pee... Routinely, I got up, trying not to wake Aaron from his cozy position on the other end of the couch, though I wanted to get this of the way so that I can crawl back into my warm sleeping bag and fall asleep. I stretch and then sit back on the couch, sensing a head rush coming on. A slight pressure forms behind my eyes and my vision begins to blur, only not to the usual black color that I have grown so accustomed to. The shade was instead a dark red color, with black veins breaking it up. Thinking back, it looked much like the color of a heart, just with oil pulsating through it instead of blood. My drowsy mind however did not take note of this of course, as only one thing was on my mind, "I have to pee".