Creepypasta Fanfiction

Ever Punishment Or Appraisal?

Ever since I was a child, I've been labeled "weird" or "freakish" for everything I have done.

My mother would look at my papers, scribbled with red crayon or pen in horror.

Each paper filled to the edge with disemboweled, tortured and gutted people.

I never had the intention of doing these things myself, nor did I find the sight pleasing. It just seemed normal to me.

I could always hear her sobbing to her friends, saying she feared there might be something wrong with me.

At the age of sixteen I was put into counseling, after attacking an older boy for continuously picking on my behavior.

 Breaking his nose, I smiled at the sight of blood pouring out of it.

Him screaming, eventually passing out alerting authority figures across from the black top.

Being dragged away as one called my mother.

Being guided through the filthy white halls of the hospital I can't help but smile.

The walls were lined with dark cracks and dust, the floors stained with an unknown substance.

You could hear the screaming and crying of my peers in the distance.

I entered a room with the same white walls, in there was a metal desk and chair with an empty clipboard.

My mother smiled softly, "The doctor will be in shortly," She said looking at me with the same tired eyes she always had.

Her and my father divorced at a young age.

My father is cheating on my mother, leaving us both to rot in close poverty.

It saddened me that she was always like this, oh how I wanted to find that old man and make him pay for what he had done.

She closed the door and walked away, you could hear the sound of her heels clacking against those tiled floors.

I sat in that room for an eternity, growing impatient I started fidgeting with the clipboard.

Pulling back the metal clip repeatedly, eventually snapping my finger, bruising my knuckle.

I hissed in pain, jolting my arm backwards, dropping the clipboard and holding my hand close to my chest.

My gaze turned towards the door, hearing the handle move until it opened.

A woman, around 5'7 walks through the door.

She wore a dark green turtleneck sweater and flared black pants.

Her hair is dark brown, put into a messy ponytail.

She sat down in front of me and smiled.

"Your name must be Jamey correct?" She looked at me and continued to read the paper.

"That's correct." I muttered quietly, I dared not to utter another word, fearing something might slip. I don't want to be here longer than need be.

"My name is Dr. Astor, pleasure to meet you." She introduces herself.

I nod in response, only continuing to look down.

"So, Jamey, I heard what happened at school. Would you mind telling me a little bit about it from your point of view?" She said, staring back at me waiting for a response.

I say nothing.

She sighs quietly, "There's nothing to worry about, anything you tell me is strictly confidential unless you say you are going to hurt yourself or someone else."

Still I sat there, giving no response.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see her look at me and slouch, fearing this session might take us nowhere.

"If there's nothing you want to say to me that's perfectly fine, I'll go get your mother and we can start again next friday."

She looks at me and then turns to the door leaving it cracked open.

My mother sat in the waiting room close nearby, I could hear them talking through the walls.

The doctor explained that it was not successful and they set up another appointment.

Their talking becomes closer as my mother comes to retrieve me.

The car ride home is quiet and awkward.

"What even happened Jamey? Everything was going so well." my mother says, finally breaking the silence.

"I couldn't stand his teasing any longer."

I continued to stare out the window, refusing to look at her.

"Well I got a call from your school. I mean FORMER school."

"What??" my head turns quickly at the distinction.

"You've been expelled, you're lucky that kids' parents didn't press charges when they found out what you did" she says sternly, still focused on the road.

"But, to be fair that kid deserved it-"

"JAMINA BRIAN" my mom stops the car abruptly shooting me forward, the seat belt stopping me from going any farther.

"It doesn't matter if that kid deserved it or not in the court of law or your old school, all they know and all they care about is the fact that you took it to the next level and assaulted him."

She turns towards me, her gaze piercing.

I stuttered then remained quiet, she was right.

But yet, I felt no regret for my behavior, she may have been right about the law however he did deserve it, no one else was going to punish him for his behavior.

It's pitiful to think that one could be high and mighty, thinking they own the world until a little blood spills, then they drop to their knees.

By the time we arrived home it was already dark.

I ran to the front porch, my mother opening the door with the old key.

Swinging open the door the lights flickered.

I walked up the stairs then to my room.

Shutting the door and throwing myself to my bed I groan, long awaiting the feeling of my sheets.

Only to be disturbed by the knocking of my door.

"Come in!" I yell, only for no one to hear it.

"I said come in!" I yell once again.

No one opens the door.

Annoyed, I lift myself from the bed and slowly drag the door open, only to find no one there.

Confused, I looked through the dark halls, and all the lights turned out.

I shut the door behind me, lurking towards my mothers room. I find her asleep in bed.

Freaked out I ran to my room locking the door this time, closing the blinds to my window.

Getting back in bed I naturally fall asleep, anxiety still pooling inside of me.