creepy stories

truth about furbies

I had a friend once, he was about seventeen years old at the time, I was eighteen. He had a little sister that died from some sort of aggressive tumor growth in her brain; if I heard the name of it I'd know what it was right away.

Anyway, shortly before she did my friend's kid sister gave this Furby to him as some sort of a good luck charm or something. A few weeks later the kid dies, the whole family's torn apart and I'm constantly there checking up on everybody.

So my friend sat his sister's Furby in his room, and one night he and I are chilling in his room, and I'm watching him play Rayman and stuff (the original one, the only one worth playing), and it's 1:15 AM, and suddenly the Furby opens its eyes.

He pauses the game, we both look over. It's staring right fucking at us. Its mouth opens and it was mumbling something, then it said "I'm okay I'm okay I'm okay." We both freak the fuck out, run out of the room and go for a walk, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. Anyway, we come back and get back into his room, still shaken up The God damn thing opens its eyes again and starts that "I'm okay I'm okay I'm okay", only this time after the third "I'm okay" it said my friends' name but the pitch was considerably lower. It droned out "I'm okay, Maaaaaaaaaark."

Eventually this goes on for two more weeks and my friend, he just went fucking bonkers. He loved his kid sister. So one night he takes his own life. My only friend was gone, man, you guys couldn't understand how lonely the world became after this shit. So I took that Furby, with his parents' permission of course. I thought it was someone fucking with us. So I'm working on the Furby that night, researching it and shit and wouldn't you know, the God damn thing opens its eyes. Guess what time it is? 1:15 AM.

This time, and it haunts me to this fucking day, it says "We're okay, we're okay, we're okay."

No... just no, guys.

Anyway, to keep telling you guys about this story, so I have the Furby now. Still, in my possession. Every morning at 1:15, it opens its eyes and looks out to me. My family notices it, too. We sort of watch it sometimes, ritualistically and shit. Like it's a fucking omen or something. It has the blankest eyes, guys.

Its voice sometimes is high pitched, sometimes it's so low that it's not decipherable. My little brother or sister, sometimes they'll walk into my room where I keep it on the shelf, and they come out with interesting stories about how the Furby will tell them things like "Enjoy life while you can" and "You shouldn't fight with your siblings" and shit, and my mother and father practically beg me to get rid of the fucking thing. My dad hates it, especially. It calls him out by name when there are very few people in the house, or it's just him. He'll be on the other side of the house, and it will call him by fucking name. And the eeriest thing is that it shuts up once he comes in my room. But then it stares right at him. Guys, I don't know what the fuck to do but I'm not getting rid of this thing. My friend's in there, I really believe he is.

Continuing on further for the fourth paragraph, my mom says the thing tells her her mother's maiden name and shit. Birthday, eye color, all that shit. And see, I'd have another sister were it not for the fact that she was a stillborn. Mom would have named her "Hazel." Every so often, this Furby goes off and starts saying "Play with me Hazel, play with me." This sends my mom into a fucking FIT guys. She starts crying hysterically and shit and I get yelled at for still keeping the fucking thing. I DON'T want to get rid of it.

See, I never believed in the paranormal until now. This is the only thing that lets me know that there's something more to this world, that we can continue on in ANY way possible. Ironically, my Captcha is "scientific orryeu", and I'll post it in the picture.

This is by no means scientific. Nobody can develop something that fucks with you so deeply, guys.

I'll keep telling stories about the thing in this thread.