Creepypasta Boyfriend Scenarios

You Meet Him-Eyeless Jack

I'm a bit iffy on this one . I will improve this, because I am not particularly glad with the chapter

Eyeless Jack

You clawed at the sheets on your bed, curled up into a ball to keep your warmth in the blanket. The sky had turned dark a long time ago, school had been dismissed long before that too. But you never saw any of it.

The blankets you had wrapped around you were seeming to get heavier every second, your eyes wanted to fall shut and sleep, but you couldn't allow it. The panic you feel, the idea that you will be stabbed in your sleep was rather ridiculous, but it was real.

You glanced at the door right on the side of the bed, your bed was still in the place you had dragged it to, still doing its barricade job. You sighed.

You have been stuck in your room for about two days now, with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Your step-father was so violent the other night, and it had honestly scared you. Hell, that was the understatement of the century.

When a drunken man chases you with blood in mind and calls you horrible names, you are scarred for life. As much as you would like to move your bed from the door and take a single step of freedom from your room, you just couldn't. He could be out there, with a large knife in one hand and a glass bottle in the other. Waiting.

Just waiting for that one chance you take.

With all this in mind you weren't exactly hopping with excitement to see him.

You went down into your blankets a little deeper, holding the crinkling plastic water bottle in your hand like the teddy bear you really needed and didn't have. No, whatever bear you had before had been disposed of and taken away, but your mom had been paranoid enough to leave water bottles near.

Your mother was an interesting woman, she was often paranoid about a lot of things that made sense, such as you getting sick, having her car stolen, not having dinner ready in time. But she was also paranoid about things that seemed far too unlikely to happen, the kind of things that sort of get dumped into the middle of your hometown and completely destroy it. Natural disasters, to put in simple words.

So in the precaution of being prepared, she would always stash some sort of supplies in different rooms. You had thanked your mother's paranoia repeatedly, being that she had stashed some water and a first-aid kit in the corner of your little closet. The thought that your mother had still managed to help you even after having died made you feel warm and reassured. It was like if your mom never left.

The kit was completely useless to you, you had kept that at the side of your bed however, just in case you had to throw it at someone. The water was great, you can manage to stay alive for a few more days.

But for what?

That was your question: What would you have to be alive for? You had missed a lot of school lately, you were behind on your education just slightly. Your step-father would only hurt you again.

You hugged the water bottle in your hand, the sound of the plastic crinking from the hug somehow reassuring. You just lay in bed, trying to ignore all the thoughts going through your head, but it was so very difficult to do when they were practically shouting at you.

Did you have to live?

The idea wheeled over and over into your mind, a little hamster just running along its little wheel. But your thoughts were suddenly shoved into a complete halt when you heard something.

You shut your eyes, instantly getting sore from how tightly you had closed them, and hugged your bottle. Every little noise you heard was taken like a warning sign, a way to immediately think you are in danger, though that would usually not be the case. The sound could have been nothing more than a floorboard settling underneath you, or maybe a small rodent running the length of your bedroom floor, but you couldn't convice yourself of these excuses and explanations. This sound was too different, far too...calculated almost.