Creepypasta short stories!

I Am The One

I'll start from the beginning and give a little background. When I was a kid, I began realizing I had a little insight on what was going to happen before it did. Now, by that I mean I sometimes knew what some kid in the class would say next whilst bothering the teacher, or I knew when the phone was going to ring. That sort of thing. I didn't think much of it as a sweet ten or eleven year old, I just saw it as pretty cool I guess. Then came on the feelings of "I've been here before" whenever I went new places, I could never remember when though. I began getting deja vu regularly, which would last maybe ten or fifteen minutes. I'd usually sit back in awe and quietly mouth everything everyone was saying. As I got older, I began referring to it as a 'sensitivity' I had. It wasn't until I was about fourteen I realized I also had this 'sensitivity' to spirits.

I live in Ireland, so during the famous Celtic Tiger my parents went all out on a beautiful 250 year old house. I mean knocking down sections, rebuilding, re-roofing, repainting, everything! We got to pick our own rooms. I chose the attic. It was terrifying at first, but once we rebuilt it a bit, painted it, re-floored it and all that good stuff it looked pretty fantastic. The only part of the room that still bothered me was the small hatch in the ceiling up into a small boiler room. Just looking at gave me a bad feeling from the beginning, so I had placed my wardrobe under it and put stuffed animals on top to cover it up so I wouldn't have to see it. The first night in that room was quite intense, all through the night I heard scratches and banging coming from the boiler room. I put it down to being 'new house noises'. Until I heard footsteps run across the ceiling. Over and over again. This happened every night. I remember mentioning it to my father, he laughed and said 'unless there's a 4ft tall person living up there you're not hearing anything' followed by the famous 'you're probably just dreaming'. I knew I wasn't. This did freak me out a lot, but surprisingly I just got used to it and ignored it.

I began noticing strange things happening in my room, little things. My wardrobe doors would be open, i'd close them and go downstairs, come back up and they'd be open again. 'Probably just a slant in the floor' my father concluded. Ornaments around my room would be in different positions, that sort of thing. Then came the feeling of being watched, watched very carefully. For every second I spent in that room I could feel someone or somethings eyes burning into me. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but I tried to get on with things. It wasn't long until I began getting night terrors. I saw horrible things, things i would not like to ever see again. However the fact they were dreams made it less traumatizing, albeit slightly disturbing. My mother told me she would hear wails in the middle of the night, she'd get out of bed to find me standing outside my door, screeching and crying, she'd ask me what's wrong but i'd simply shake my head and lower my chin to my chest. I don't remember any of the crying. When I was told I was doing this I was pretty freaked out, something like that had never ever happened to me before. I began feeling a bit down being in that house, specifically my bedroom. Each night I'd find myself thinking about how sad I was, which again, was odd for me because I had never had any problems, I was always a happy kid. However it was to get worse. I'll never forget the night it all went downhill.

It was just a regular night I guess, and I had gone to bed and fallen asleep. I woke suddenly in the middle of the night, within a second of waking up I was overcome with terror and dread. I felt something watching me again, only this time, I saw it. I slowly turned my head to the left of me and there I saw it, a dark black figure staring at me. It's head was cocked forward from it's body looking down at me. I thought I was dreaming so I sat up, blinked and rubbed my eyes. No such luck. It was still there, only it looked as shocked as I was. It jolted back (perhaps when it realized I could see it?) and slithered down the side of my bed, across the bottom of my bed, as disappeared into the darkness. I couldn't do anything, only sit there in terror and weep quietly. I had never been so scared. I stayed on the couch for a few days after that, and avoided my bedroom completely. I changed after that night, I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep. I couldn't do anything, I was just a terrified mess. It wasn't long before I decided enough was enough and braved the room once again. Due to sheer exhaustion, I managed to fall asleep on my bed for what felt like five minutes before waking abruptly. It was there again, only this time it's 'face' was directly opposite mine. This time though it was in broad daylight, as I had only managed sleep at about six am. I think it's fair to say I shat my pants.