CreepyPasta...? Engels

Blight the Psychopath.

When I was little, I had this friend. She was kind, and a little bit weird to. And always happy. When she wasn't happy, people would worry about her medical condition.

One day, if I remember correct, she wasn't happy at all. She was sad, on the edge of crying. I asked what was wrong. She told me everything was fine. I didn't think about it, until she wouldn't come to play, the next day. When I asked my mother why she didn't come to play, she told me they moved. I was shocked. So she didn't want to tell me. I was disappointed.

A couple of years later, when I got in middle school, I met Liza. She was nice, and popular. So I was always in a crowd of people. After a while, when I was going to school, I thought it was going to be a great day, but I was wrong. When I wanted to talk to Liza, she ignored me like I wasn't there. Nobody said a word to me. Not to tell how everybody avoided me like I was a disease or something.

After 5 weeks of this humiliating situation, I grew sick of it.

I locked myself in my room. I didn't eat. I didn't respond to text messages. Even my parents didn't get me out of my room. After a while, I didn't get the usual knock on the door. It was a knock, I didn't use since I was a little girl. When I opened the door, no one was there. So I closed it again. I went to bed immediately. The next few days were the same. Every day the knock, and no one there.

Until the knock was on my window.

My room was on the second floor. I looked out of the window, to see no one. I turned around, and the knock was there again. Only louder this time. So I looked at the window, and no one was there.

I thought I was getting mad.

I went to bed like usual, when I heard the knock again. I walked to the window, and there was a note. You still remember me? I was slightly terrified, not to mention that it was impossible to reach my window. I jumped into my bed, and fell asleep almost immediately. But that was the last thing I should have done.

The next morning, I woke up in a bed full of blood. I stood up as fast as I could, and I saw that a iece of my stomach was gone. Like, completely gone. I rushed to the bathroom, to find another note. Sorry, I needed your blood for my job. But, it will grow back soon enough. I will see you later. I was terrified. Like, there was a hole in my stomach, and I was home alone. My parents were on a businesstrip for two months, and I didn't have siblings.

I started to feel if I was watched.

At first, that wasn't a problem. I still didn't eat, or drink. Or get out of my room. The neighbours were so nice to check on me, but were worried. The new neighbours, which I hated like hell, asked themselves what on earth was wrong with me. My parents tried to explain, but they didn't get it. Not that I cared.

When I came out of my room the first time, I went to the attic.

I had stacked some stuff of me there, mostly the stuff I wanted to forget about. It was stuff of my best friend, Blight. When she moved, I didn't want to give it back, or keep it myself. So I put it in the attic. When my parents found out that I had done that, they weren't angry, or sad. They thought it was a stage in my life.

It wasn't a stage.

Months later, my neighbours died. Once the new people meved in, and I went to meet, they were surprised I didn't remember who they were. It was an older couple, with a teenage daughter. She seemed isolated, like me. She didn't talk to me. I asked her parents, and they said it was because of moving away years ago. She didn't want to talk to me if I didn't remember her. That would be a promblem.

Then the knockning on the window came back.

I didn't hear it since I came out of my room. That was 4 months ago. I looked out of the window, and I saw my neighbour. She looked like she was floating, and she had the worst facial expression I could think of. Like someone who had gotten mad. She was trying to break the window, to get in. I was terrified. And then, I remebered. She was Blight, my best friend. I walked away from the window, and ran downstairs. I rushed into the kitchen, and grabbed a kitchenknife. She was now at the frontdoor. She kicked the frontdoor open, and walked inside. I was trapped in the kitchen. She came in, with still the same expression. I could hear weird music playing in the hallway. I walked to the hallway, but she blocked me the way. I tried moving her, but she didn't give in. I sterted crying on the floor, thinking I was getting crazy. She leaned in, and wispered this words.

I was your best friend. Your best friend was a psychopath. So I am Blight the Psyhopath.