Shyanne {a Shyanne creepypasta origin.}

The Kids Wont Be Alright

It's been about a week since I had killed. I really had no need to kill. No one made me mad, and I had no bloodlust. I had thought about just going back home, everything would be fine. But times had changed. I had changed. And I know it would never be the same, and besides, why would I want yo go back? This was so much better! I was free! Last night, before I went up to my room, Jeff had told me that there was internet near by I could use, so I could bring phone. He told me from what he could see, if there were any police officers still there, there was only a few.

I closed my eyes and imagined my room, where my phone and its charger was. In a flash, I was in my room. I could two police officers talking to each other. I quickly grabbed my phone and charger as fast as I could and teleported back to my new, better room. I unlocked my phone and turned wifi on. Instantly, there was 93 chat room notifications. I opened the tab and looked, every one of the messages were about me, calling me a bitch, saying they were glad I was dead, wondering if I'd killed him, then committed suicide because of the guilt.

"What the fuck?" I whispered as I ran down the stairs.

"Hmm?" Ben asked me as I tripped over one step and fell down the rest.

"They're saying I'm dead!"

Jeff laughed. "Get used to it. That's how they reacted to me."

Masky sat up ajjared. "Who says you're dead?"

"The kids at school!" "I'm not dead!". I typed into my phone. Immediately, someone asked who'd hacked my account. "No one hacked the account!" I wrote. The person typing got scared and went offline like everyone else. I scrolled up, read comment after comment of people saying how glad they were that I'd died. I shook my head in anger, reading all of the cuss words they used to describe me. All of a sudden, my bloodlust was back. I needed to teach them a lesson. They had to understand how mean they were. They were such bullies that words can simply not describe.

Hoodie looked over at me then to Masky. "okay. She's pissed."

"Yeah, and I don't think I like that idea," Masky replied looking over at me as I clinched my fists around my knife.

"Maybe I should take you up to your room..." Ben said worried. I nodded and he walked me up the stairs; my whole body shaking from clinching my hand around my knife so hard.

I sat down on my bed, dropping my knife. Not even caring. My mind was filled with so much anger I could not comprehend what was even going on. I closed my eyes laying down, making the bad thoughts go away. I could still feel Ben's presence, but I had no reason to care. I blacked out as he asked me if I was going to be okay.