Creepypasta Stories

Dear Abby

We've never met before, so this may seem a bit odd, but I feel this is necessary. My name's Jay for starters, I work the checkout line at the grocery store up on 67th Street. You know the one with the parking lot that's way too big for the store itself? Yeah, that one. I'm 24, fairly tall, and have a rather scraggly appearance. You probably wouldn't recognize me if I came up to talk to you, I don't have a very memorable face. Heh, I don't really know why I'm telling you all this to be honest... But this isn't the point of me writing you. I was working late at night yesterday, it was a very average day for the most part. Nothing too exciting happened, But you'd be surprised at how interesting this job can get at times. I'd been reading some book the guy that'd been working the counter before me had left, it was some really crappy murder mystery chock full of clichés. Incredibly boring, if you ask me. But... It's something to to, I guess. When you showed up though, my whole night changed. I don't know exactly what it was about you that caught my attention at first, but as soon as I saw you I got this odd feeling. A wierd mix between excitement and terror, that's the best way I can describe it at least. I saw you walk into my line and I quickly composed myself, I'd been slouching down in my chair for a while since I rarely ever get anyone in my line. It was only when you got closer that I realised what about you had caught my attention... You were absolutely beautiful. You walked up and said "hey" and handed me your cart. I could tell by the way you were talking and the way you looked that you were very sleep deprived, though this wasn't surprising how late it was. After a second or two of awkward silence I realized that you'd greeted me, I suddenly forced out a "h-hi" in response. I cursed myself out mentally for that one.

I sat there for a second, trying to focus. "What's your name?", I said. It's only later that I realize how odd this must have seemed, what kind of a grocery bag guy asks what someone's name is? I'm glad I did though. I remember, you said you were named Abigail, but you go by Abby for short. Abby, it seemed to fit so perfectly. The name seemed to roll of my tongue as I said it back to myself silently. It was like sweet honey, it just felt good as I said it. You seemed to be perplexed when I looked back at you, and I wondered if I'd done something to upset you. "Shouldn't you be packing those?" you said and pointed to your groceries. Suddenly shocked and embarrassed, I looked up and apologized, then clumsily started shoving groceries into bags as fast as I could. I couldn't believe myself, how stupid could I be? But when I looked up, I realised you were laughing.

"You're kind of cute" you said. I tried to play it off cool, but I was obviously thrilled. A girl like this thought I was cute? "You are too" I said, as I hastily packed the rest of the groceries. As you walked out, you turned around as you reached the door and said "Have a good night". I'm guessing I look pretty stupid writing this all down, you probably still remember it, I mean it did just happen yesterday. But I went back home ecstatic that night and with all the confidence in the world, I feel like it's almost unreal writing it back here.

Anyways, I wanted to write you this letter Abby to tell you that, I love you. I don't know what it was I felt that night, it was some weird mix up of emotions. But all I know was that even in that small little transaction we had, I felt as if there was something between us.

Please, write me back soon.

Sincerely, Jay

Dear Abby, 

It's been a week since I sent my last letter and I still haven't gotten a response, but that doesn't matter. How've you been? My life's just been as normal as usual, get up, go to work, go to bed. I live in a really shitty apartment, but I guess that's what you get when you work as a grocery bagger. I've thought anout you a lot lately, and I sometimes wonder if you still remember me. 

I saw you again today at work, this time it was at a more reasonable hour, thankfully. I didn't want to bother you to see if you'd approach me on your own. You came to my line again, which made me absolutley thrilled. This time I was less nervous, I was going to act normal whatever you did or said. I wasn't going to let a girl like you slip through my fingers. As you walked up you muttered something that was too quiet for me to make out, and waited ant the end of the counter for me to finish packing your groceries. This obviously wasn't what I had expected, but it wasn't all too bad. You didn't seem to feel anything at all, actually. I was expecting you to either come up and talk to me or avoid me like the plague, but instead you just walked on through as if I was another stranger. This makes be wonder if you got my last letter, you should check your mailbox more often.