For years I've been made fun of because of my hair, it's softer than silk, it doesn't make knots, it's never been to long or to short(at least not for me), it flows in the wind and is easy to style, but it's white. It's pure white, like snow, a fresh canvas or even a celebrity's teeth.
I also always felt like someone was watching. It didn't creep me out at all though. It was like that since before I can remember. I thought it was normal.
I was bullied since I was allowed to go outside. The bullying got so bad, that I once came home with a broken arm and a cut over my eye after school, at least it didn't make a scar. Thats why my parents took me out of public school. They got me into a online homeschooling system after I got out the hospital.
Later I heard that the children who used to bully me went missing, but that was a long time ago.
~~~~
"Honey. Honey! HONEY!" "Huh? What? What happened?" I asked my mother who was inches away from my face. She's probably the one who was screaming in my ear. "I called you for dinner 3 times. Usually you jump up the moment you hear dinner." She said. 'Oh, I was imaging what it feels like to hang out with friends.' I say in my head. "Just daydreaming" I answer. "Kay, but come down before the food gets cold." "Sure thing, Mom." I reply with a smile.
After she left, I look around my room. Dark reddish lighting, doll heads hanging around my bed. My bed, with its metallic black paint and carvings of skulls, knives and anything spooky, I ad something every year on my birthday. I turn to my closet, my dark pink and black closet against my wall. The walls have vertical black and white stripes. I then look up at my ceiling, it has pictures of corpses and bloodied knives on it, good thing Mom and Dad never look up or they'd freak. It's not a typical ten year olds room. The only "normal" thing in it, is my stuffed rabbit, besides the fact that I keep knives in him for my birthday carvings and target practice when Mom and Dad aren't home.
~~~~time skip to dinner~~~~
It's kinda quiet at dinner, Dad isn't telling me stories about the creepy places he had to tear down today(he bulldozes places his coworkers are to scared to visit), or the things he found in them and Mom isn't yelling at him to stop telling those stories at the dinner table, which is why I'm not begging her with my puppy dog face to allow one more story. At least I don't have to make that disgusting puppy dog face.
That's why I know something's wrong. "Mom? Dad? What's going on? It's too quiet around here." They look at me, looking scared. "It's nothing sweetie. We're just tired." Mom says. "Yea, don't worry Creepcake, there's nothing wrong." Adds my Dad. Their lying, I know it. "It's not nothing! You're lying and look scared. You can tell me!" I say starting to get worried. They'd never lie to me if it's not serious, and I mean life or death serious.
Dad looks at Mom, she looks like she could cry. She then gives Dad a droopy, worried, hesitant and slow nod before bursting into tears. I jump up, knocking my chair over as I run to the other end of the table to comfort her. She never cries! Now I'm really worried.
"Maybe it would be best to tell you tomorrow." Says Dad looking guiltily at me while putting his hand on my shoulder. "NO!" Screams my mom."Tomorrow might be to late!" She screams with tears streaming down her cheeks.
I may be a creepy kid, but I'm not heartless, so take my hand and try to wipe her tears away. She notices and clings to me, as if she'd lose me if she didn't.
"Then it might be best to tell you in your room." Says Dad looking at me. 'He's also crying!' I think to myself. This REALLY IS serious.
~~~~time skip 'cause I'm lazy~~~~
In my room, Dad takes out his phone and searches for something, while Mom tries to explain, but all I hear are sobs and mumbo jumbo. So Dad takes her hand and says "I'll explain, you find the photo. OK?" What photo?
That's when I feel it, or, actually don't feel it. Something's missing. Mom? No. Dad? No. The feeling of someone watching me? N- wait a minute. Yes! Thats what's missing! It feels like were only three people, but it normally feels like were four!
"Creepcake," Dad starts. "You know how Mom and I have brown hair?" "Yea?" Is all I get out. "And you have white hair." "Yea. And?" I ask. "Well,...
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A/n: Hey everyone! This is the longest chapter I've ever written and I'm pretty proud!😊
Anyways, here comes a cliché... Please vote and comment or follow me! Thanks! Buy everyone!😁
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He's my father(creepy pasta)
Fanfiction-+-+-+-+- For years I've been made fun of because of my hair, it's softer than silk, it doesn't make knots, it's never been to long or to short(at least not for me), it flows in the wind and is easy to style, but it's white. And I finally found out...
