Creepypasta Collection Book 1

A Haunting

I remember it clear as day, as if it happened yesterday, even though it was almost eleven years ago. I didn't have the best of childhoods, if we're being totally honest. However, it was anything but uneventful. This all began on a Friday, on a day where there was no school. Might have been due to an inbound hurricane that Miami was known to be plagued by, or just because the superintendent of my school at the time felt like canceling, or a holiday. Anyway you slice it, though, it is irrelevant.

I was at home playing Super Smash Bros Melee on my GameCube with my brother, Phillip. I was eleven soon to be twelve, and he was seven, soon to be eight. We did almost everything together, not to come off that we always got along though. We fought a lot, as brothers do. On this particular day, however, my brother and I hadn't been fighting. In fact, we hadn't had a big fight in nearly a week. We were eager to stay joined, even nosing our way into each other's business to stay involved.

About 4:30 pm rolls around, and I decide I want to take a break from the game to get some lemonade. I walked down the short hall and cut left down the next short hallway leading to the family room/dining room, and then went into the kitchen. My father and my step-mother also hadn't been fighting either. Strange, considering I'm hard pressed to think of moments when they weren't. Anyway, I happened to look over at the giant dinosaur of a TV to notice they were watching a movie I had never heard of.

"Hey!" My father yells. I look back at him, startled. "You don't wanna watch this," he said. "It's too scary for you."

I heeded my father's command, poured my lemonade quickly and left the kitchen. But my curiosity had been aroused. I had to see what he was so concerned with me seeing. I returned to their room (where my GameCube was set up on a smaller TV) and my brother had asked why our father yelled at me when I went in. I told him that they were watching something scary in the kitchen. We both agreed we should prove ourselves brave in our father's eyes by watching any amount of that movie that we could.

Of course we went back to our game, but we carefully watched the clock, waiting for 6 pm, when our father would start cooking dinner for us before we left for our church group activities. When he called us into the kitchen, we could catch at least the very end of the movie (which we had deduced would naturally be the scariest part) and shrug it off as "just a movie." The anticipation made my pulse race, like the anticipation of waiting for Christmas, but different. Dad was gonna be so proud of us, I thought.

Six o'clock finally crept upon us. Like clockwork, our father called us into the kitchen. We shot through the house, desperately hoping we could at least catch the last ten minutes of the movie. We piled onto the couch while my father stirred Kraft Macaroni and Cheese noodles in the boiling pot. This was it, the moment we had waited for. And I remember regretting almost immediately sitting in front of the TV after what we witnessed.

The movie was Jeepers Creepers. We came in at the police station scene where the monster (which is a Wendigo for those who wondered about it) pops out and Spiderman's his way towards the main characters. I remember seeing it, and thinking "What in the hell is that??" I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn't look away as the monster revealed its wicked strength, bizarre form and terrible roar. I looked at my brother for a moment. He was horrified; I was too. But as soon as the movie ended, we shaped up.

Our father set our full plates on the little table in the kitchen, completely unaware that my brother and I had watched the last portion of the movie. We were silent, but traded smiles and short giggles, as if to mask that it had terrified us. I remember trying to lord over my friends in my church group. The fact that I had watched 'the scariest movie ever' - which in all respects is still true in my opinion - stating that none of them would have been able to handle it. One friend specifically, the Pastor's son, Dalton, replied with "Yeah, you're probably right."