David Matthews

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David Matthews

First things first, I am an American reporter who just graduated his journalism education and I am about to hit the headlines with this ominous article. I have been fascinated by unsolved mysteries for a while now, but since I've encountered this horrifying story, I can't sleep at night anymore. I needed to write it down. Tell it someone. Anyone. This following story is most likely not to be believed, but no one ever can tell me otherwise. So now just close the door, sit down and read, but no matter what you hear or what you see...

Never look behind you! [Note written on 20th November 2015]

David Matthews had always been believed to be a good boy. He did everything his parents ordered him to. The then 10 years old boy went to school, doing his homework each day and read every book he could grasp in his hands. His parents were beyond proud of their son and his teacher was amazed by his diligence and concentration. She had never seen such an assiduous pupil before, but there was something that worried her. David was always on his own and when another pupil asked him to play together, he always refused. At first the teacher didn't do anything, because she thought this might be a phase, but month after month it worsened. He avoided conversations with anyone and when she asked David a question, he just stared blankly in response, not daring to say any word. His face was emotionless, but there was a hint of savage and pure fear lurking inside his big eyes. David's fixated glare created a dreary atmosphere around him, causing the people around him to avoid his company. The teacher saw that the others in his class feared him. She didn't know exactly why, but there was something waiting inside him to finally break free.

His teacher, called Mrs. Brooks, knew there was something wrong, so she informed David's parents about his bizarre behavior. Both of them just laughed it off in amusement and reassured her that there's nothing wrong with their son and that there will never be something wrong with him. He was smart, friendly and quiet. Nothing to be worried about. Mrs. Brooks didn't want to bother them any further so she just got along with it. She was scared in a peculiar way and she gave her best to suppress the menacing premonition.

The next couple of days Mrs. Brooks actually thought that David was getting better, because he occasionally talked to one of his classmates and she was relieved. But the more she thought David was on his road of improvement the more shocking were his actions on the next day. It was the day her forebodings were confirmed beyond any doubt. First she couldn't trust her ears as she heard about it, but as she saw it with her own eyes, there was no way to deny it. Mrs. Brooks headed into the classroom, laying her eyes on David who stabbed his pencils into another girl's skin, gripping her tightly so she had no chance of escaping. His grip was so firm that it already formed deep dark purple bruises onto her sensitive skin. Tears covered her tortured face. She waved her hands frantically around her and tried to loosen his grasp, but in vain. The other pupils pressed their backs against the wall, watching paralyzed the cruel act that played right in front of their watery eyes. Another boy lay on the ground a couple of inches next to David and the girl. He pulled his legs to his chest, rolling into a ball and wept; his skin was covered with some fresh holes that David caused. Blood was smeared all over his arm. The hollowing whimpers and cries filled the room and the four walls seemed to move forward, making this place look even smaller. Some of the pupils ran outside, yelling for help. But Mrs. Brooks just stood there, not realizing what was occurring. Her once hopeful eyes turned dull and her lips trembled. She thought 'Boy, what did you do?'

David found liking in hurting his classmates. Initially he started poking the girl with his sharp pencil and gradually began to pierce the wooden stick into the other children's skin once again until she was bleeding. David observed the dark red liquid escaping her body as if he had seen some spectacular phenomena, contemplating the blood as something holy. He laughed as the others were crying anguished and he didn't even stop as Mrs. Brooks watched his actions traumatized. The more people spectated his work the stronger he felt.