Creepypastas

Laces

When I was younger, around the age of 14, I moved into a house along the river. On my first night living there I kept hearing an odd sound from the kitchen when I was alone. It sounded like shoe laces hitting the tiles. I asked around town if they heard about this from the last people who lived there. An old man near the market told me that two families ago, a little girl was playing with a knife in the kitchen, tripped over her shoe laces and fell face first into the blade. The parents heard her scream in pain and rushed in to see their young 6-year-old daughter dying before them. Her father grabbed her and pulled the knife out and rushed her to the hospital, but she had died long before they even pulled the knife out. You can still hear the laces of her shoes hitting the floor while her ghost lurks about. I shrugged it off and told him he was crazy. Unsatisfied with his answer, I asked other people about it, but everyone said the same thing.

Tonight, I felt like I was being watched. I told my parents about the laces thing and they said not to be worried, but that made it worse. I heard the laces, giggling, and crying. I tried telling myself it was a dream, but everything was too real... I ran to my mother's room, but I was stopped but a figure in the dark. It was a small girl, and the smell of rotten flesh ran through the air. She giggled and said, "You're silly," in a tone that was morbid and disgusting. The rank smell was not helping. I threw up and managed to utter, "Be-be gone demon!" As the girl came closer, she pulled a knife from her head which was stuck where her eye would have been and turned it to me. I let out a scream and alerted my parents. They came out of their room and saw a knife hit the ground. The girl was gone. My mother told me I should not play with knives and I told her I wasn't the one who did it. It was the ghost girl!

A week later, my parents sent me to a therapist because they thought I might be going a little crazy in the new place. I spent most of my life in our previous home. The next time I went to the therapist, something was off, the place had humid air and odd smell. I soon noticed blood in my therapist's office and opened the door to see the same girl hanging over my therapist's head. I blinked trying to get the image out of my mind... I opened the door and saw my therapist and the entire office as normal as it had ever been, greeted by a simple "Welcome." Maybe I was going insane, just maybe. My therapist saw a look of horror on my face and asked if everything was OK. I replied everything was fine. This time, I told her everything. She looked at me like she had seen a ghost. All of the color drained from her face and her eye lids starting twitching. She told me I should leave. I remembered the scene too well. It kept repeating in my head on the way home.

As I went up to my house I noticed a shadow in my bed room window. It looked like the small child. I ran into my house and yet again saw blood everywhere, just like in therapist's office. I blinked and tried to shake it off like before, but it never went away. I turned around to get the phone and there she was standing there knife in hand. She spoke. "Hi, there. I suffered in my death. So I'll make you suffer too!" I screamed about I had nothing to do with her death. She replied, "I know it was my fault, but why should I be the only soul to suffer?" I grabbed the gun from the cabinet behind me and fired. The bullet hit the girl and I could tell I made a huge mistake. She screamed in such a high pitch scream my ears bleed. Giving me an accusing look, she grabbed her arm where the bullet hit and vanished. I picked up the phone and called the police. They took me from my house, but as I turned around and glanced over my shoulder, and sobbed helplessly. Before being taken away, the last thing I saw was the gutted bodies of my parents.