Creepypasta Stories

Let's Not Meet (Continue)

Reddit: Let's Not Meet 

Reddit User: merpytaco 

I'm generally new to reddit, but have been following LNM for months now and just dying (not really!) to share some of my experiences so I finally caved and made an account. So here's my story.

A little prelude, this is not one of the scariest things to have happened to me. I grew up in the South Bronx, not the best area so obviously I had a few moments growing up that were really ... not good. But the tales of risky encounters with junkies and creeps are for another day. I'm street smart, now! But back then, not so much.

So, this particular story strangely begins in fifth grade although the "scary part" doesn't come in until literally YEARS later. I was 10, pudgy, dorky and painfully shy. Understandably so, I had just been transferred into "regular" classes, as I had spent my previous years in bilingual education. When you spend most of your time speaking in Spanish and having only Hispanic friends, it's jarring to suddenly be placed out of your comfort zone. All of my old friends were still together and suddenly I couldn't hang out with them as my lunch table, room number and assigned area for recess were completely different. I was alone. Completely and utterly friendless. Until, two girls from my new class suddenly befriended me and "took me under their wings."

Olive was nice, super nice. I regret not keeping in touch with her once I went on to middle school. She came from a really bad background (but then again most of us did too) but she was always smiling and willing to explain things I didn't understand. Grace was nice but really snarky at times even to Olive who was her "best friend for-ever!" She would call both Olive and I poor for not having a cellphone (although hello this was the early 2000s cellphones still weren't that common with the young'iins) or ugly as a weird endearment. She would let loose a maniacal laughter when she thought something was funny, grasping her purple glasses to her face and do a full-body wiggle. These would often make me and Olive giggle because it seemed so fake, like a show she did to make us laugh. Looking back on it now, it should have been a sign she wasn't a really sane person. But, the friendship persisted.

This all came to a weird impasse when one day Olive stopped showing up to school. Grace and her were in an off/on stage, where one day they were best friends the other times couldn't be in the same room and hated each other. I was always in the middle of these fights and was often told to "pick a side". In this week of no Olive, Grace and I were playing tag outside during recess. Grace was chasing me, and I was momentarily distracted because I finally saw my group of old friends from my previous years. I yelled a quick time out, and looking at it now I feel like she should have heard me, but she continued running straight at me. Suddenly she tackled me to the floor, and this is where my memory gets a big foggy because a floor made out of pure concrete and gravel + no time to brace myself= bad stuff. I remember not moving for a while, and a school aid pushing Grace out of the way to lift me up as I started to sob and babble in Spanish wanting my mom. The next thing I know my grandmother, who barely speaks a lick of English, was rushing into the nurse's room yelling that one should never put a packet of ice on a head wood (what the nurse did to stop the blood), and crying because the back of my shirt was streaked with said blood. It apparently looked a lot worse than it was, but at the time this was some serious shit so I was sent on my way with my grandmother to the emergency room.

Questions were thrown at me by my frantic parents when they were told by my grandmother where I was. Who did this to you? Are you being bullied? Don't be scared no one will be mad. Tell us who it was, they'll get expelled. But in my tiny child brain, Grace was my friend. She didn't mean anything. It was an accident. And so nothing was done.

I went back to school, Grace said sorry and warned me to pay more attention next time we were playing together, Olive eventually came back (she now lived with her grandmother as her parents were unfit to take care of her), and fifth grade eventually came to a close. We graduated. Went to the same middle school, but I was again separated as I was placed into "gifted and talented" rather than general ed. I thought myself a little genius, but I really just had a weird form of a Tiger Dad I was scare of displeasing.