//Info//
Violent descriptions of blood, the paranormal, and murder will be mentioned in this story.
The main is female. (Unlike in the creepypastas where it's basically always male.)
—
...What happened...?
...
That's what the therapist asked.
...
...In truth I don't know what happened...
...They think I did it...
...
Everyone thinks I did it.
...
But the authorities don't think I did it...I don't know why they don't...but I'm just going with it...
...
Enough talking, let me tell you what happened.
—Opening scene—
I was chilling with the pretty old lady. I mean the cat, the 14 year old cat that belongs to my grandmother. We moved in a year ago. Back with grandmother. It was to finish mother's schooling, I don't know why I couldn't have stayed with my bestie. Actually we're more than that but no one knows that. She offered to take me. But my parents took me anyway.
But yes, Stella, grandmother's cat, was purring away. Just loving me, she'll be like this for hours if you let her. But then I heard a knocking noise in the hallway. But if I learned anything from horror movies, it's that you don't check it out. Then it stopped at the end of the hallway, then it happened again, but coming back up. My grandmother and her dog weren't here. I'm a very paranoid person and it saved me. After it completely stopped, my father came down from the second story.
We live in a two story house and have 4 animals. 3 cats and a dog. But anyway. He called my name so I got up. He scared me but that's just the way I am. The lights were mostly all off. My father offered for me to watch a movie with my siblings, mother, and him. I'm glad I said no. So there I was, sitting in my room now. Reading a fanfic, when I heard the same knocking noise above me. I flinched and didn't dare look up. That's how the Asian ghosts get you. I'm familiar with European, Asian, and American horror.
Then grandmother entered the house, and thumping was heard above me. I flinched again and looked at the door. A few minutes went by... it was quiet upstairs... accept for the meowing of my precious kittens. So, against proper judgement, I went upstairs. You may think stupid but it was actually smart. It seemed the knocking had gone back downstairs, targeting my grandmother of all people. When I got upstairs, it was too quiet. My father snores, so if everyone was sleeping already (highly unlikely) I would hear snoring. My kittens ran out of my brothers' room in the hallway. They very covered in something red.
My fluffy boy ran up to me and mewed pathetically. Somethings not right, he only meows like that when he's really hungry. I picked up my cats and paused at the door to the stairway. Thumping was heard downstairs. Instead I headed to the upstairs pantry and locked myself in there. A few minutes later I heard barking. Jessie's barking, the dog. Jessie never barks unless she can't see grandmother. She's really attached.
I heard a whispery voice. 5... is good enough.... I put my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from screaming. I heard it disappear into the air. Then a hour later I came out. Should be safe right? I walked into my brothers' room. Regrettably. Blood splattered all over the newly painted walls. My brothers were on the floor. Gutted and hallowed out. My parents... out the damn window... splat on the fake grass of a mini alleyway in our house. Blood over the walls too. I'm surprised I didn't notice that because the blood splattered on my sliding glass door. My room connects straight to the mini alley.
Backing out I held in tears and let out a shaky breath. It smelled horrible in there. Now, call me a devil, cursed one, sick, whatever. But bloody scenes don't really affect me, and losing pets is harder than losing loved ones. I went back downstairs, not looking in the kitchen. That's where grandmother's dead body lay. I went and got Stella, and got Jessie, and dragged all 4 of the animals into my room. Where I proceeded to call the cops.
...
I told them everything, the knocking, thumping, voices. They thought I was crazy. But they knew I didn't do it. Now here I am, in Scotland with my grandmother's friend. My family is currently fighting over who should take me, the Mexican side has too many kids already so they backed out. But the others... oh boy. My uncle the sheriff wants to take me in, my aunt the teacher, my other aunt in Alaska, my uncle the military one, and the other uncle that married an Asian woman. I'm sitting in a therapist's office. Writing this down, because I need to tell the true story. Of the Olesh family massacre.
—
{This is all a work of fiction, I based this off my own personal experience 10 minutes ago. The knocking sounds I mean- NO ONE IS ACTUALLY DEAD}
