Creepypasta Boyfriend Scenarios

2.First Encounter

In my last update (Now deleted) I asked you which of three characters would replace another. Now, I completely understand that Dr. Locklear was not the most popular character. In fact, Laughing Jack was. I understand this, and apologies for any disappointment this will bring. I have decided to add the Doctor because I find his character deeply interesting and entertaining. (which is not to say the others aren't) I write for entertainment and in my free time. Saying that, I would much rather write characters I am interested in than a character that is in most other Scenarios books. Thank you.

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Homicidal Liu

It ought to be a gloomy afternoon, one overcast and cold. But the weather didn't care for what it ought to be. The skies had cried themselves dry two days previous and the sun was unbearably hot.

With a sigh you unbuckle and climb out of the car. Gravel crunches under your feet as you close and lock the door behind yourself. The graveyard’s large metal gate is already open for you, the cement walls bordering the land has a small sign taking note of when the grass would be cut.

Once you had nearly been desperate enough to see if a position at the graveyard was open, but then you would be near her too much. Instead you’d swallowed your pride and applied at a cheap diner. Once a year was enough.

Her grave is in the back. Near nicely trimmed bushes with flowers and to the left of the old weeping willow. It’s a typical upright headstone, fancy letters etched into the stone. The flowers you left last year has been cleaned up by now.

‘Diana O'Connell, loved by family, cherished by friends’ It reads. It had been nearly four years since her suicide. No one had expected it, Diana had always been a relatively happy girl. You had met her first in elementary school, on the black top as she dribbled a basketball between her legs.

Diana had been your best friend through all of high school. She lived with her great aunt most of her life a few minutes down the street from your childhood home. For most of her Junior year she’d dabbled in the supernatural. Just the usual shit you’d find on any Wikipedia page with Latin that was probably not the most reliable.

And then she was found in her attic.

This year you didn’t have too much extra saved to buy a bouquet. Tomorrow the lawn would be mowed anyways, they’d be removed too soon to mean anything.

The thin paths are the same gravel as the parking lot. They weaved through the whole expanse of the large property, all connecting to a small circle around the weeping willow. While slowly making your way to her grave, you catch sight of someone stood over a grave. They were covered in heavy clothes and a bulky scarf. They look up at the sound of your footsteps walking past them. Looking away quickly you continue on your way, leaving them to mourn in peace.

Her grave is the same as last year. It hurts to look at like every other time. And, much like every other time, you kneel down in front of it, eyes trained at her name on the gravestone. Back when the wound was much more raw you would talk to her. Now it just felt silly. Like you were rubbing salt into your own wounds and picking scabs.

By the time you’re making your way back towards your car, the person is gone. The two graves they had been stood in front of had flowers a top them. Nevertheless, its none of your business. You continue on your way and dry your face with the back of your hand.