Creepypasta stories

All the Papers Lied Tonight

God, I hope I'm just going crazy.

You ever had one of those "how in the hell did I get here" moments? I mean those flashes of clarity where you really see your life. You look in the mirror and you’re so far removed from the person you dreamed of being when you were a kid that you're stunned speechless.

Mine happened about a year ago, a week or two before Thanksgiving, when I woke up in the hospital. I was incredibly disoriented; everything seemed unreal and distant, not really happening to me… like I was dreaming, or an avatar in a video game. Maybe it was because I already felt so disconnected... maybe it was the terrifying reminder of my own mortality… but it felt like I was seeing myself with a stranger’s eyes. Waves of shame and self-hatred rolled over me in that hospital bed, and I vowed to change my life.

I’d made similar resolutions before and failed miserably, but this time was different. This time, the change was nearly effortless: old habits evaporated, old temptations lost all allure. Peer pressure stopped being an issue, because I just wasn’t interested in hanging out with my usual group; when I tried going out with them sober, they bored me to tears.

Meanwhile, other relationships in my life were improving. At my son Logan’s birthday party, I even overheard my ex-wife telling his mother that I’d finally grown up and stopped causing so much heartache for everyone. When the last children had left and I was cleaning up, my son surprised me with a running hug. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me harder than he ever had in his life.

"Will you stay?" he whispered.

I brushed back his hair with my hand. “Of course! I’ll stay as long as you want. You could even spend the night at my place tonight, if your Mother says it's okay."

He sighed happily. “You're so much better than my real dad.” Every cell in my body froze.

I launched into a speech about how I was his Dad, was trying to change, knew I needed to earn his trust back, etc.

"Okay!” he said lightly, obviously eager to return to his pile of presents. But just before he ran off... he winked at me, like we had an awesome secret.

Logan couldn't stay with me that night after all... and honestly, I was kind of relieved. What he'd said had cut me to the core, and for the first time in nearly a year, I desperately wanted a drink. I made it all the way to the front door of my apartment complex before I lost it and started sobbing. I was fumbling in my pocket for my keys, trying to see through a glaze of tears, when Sam put her hand on my shoulder.

Sam had lived in the apartment next door to mine for years. Before my epiphany, I’d barely spared her a glance… but after, I’d found myself choking on cartoon butterflies whenever she passed by. I’d never had to chase a girl before. It’s not that I’m Brad Pitt or anything, it’s just that I used to spend an enormous amount of time and money making myself look nothing like myself. You've seen the old me, or one of my countless clones: a golem of silicone and acrylic, spangles and bleach. It was a lot like being a zombie, I suppose; you can barely move for fear that parts of you will fall off.

Back on point: I’d been trying to catch Sam’s eye for months, and I was terrible at it. I'd chat her up and think I was getting somewhere... but then I'd make a joke, or quote a movie, and she'd cringe like I'd just stabbed her.

It was a humiliating way to have finally caught her attention... bawling like an angry toddler on the front steps, miserably wiping snot on my sleeve as I blubbered confessions for a million sins.

Sam listened patiently, only stopping me once to suggest we get out of the cold and continue talking in her apartment. She drank me under the table. I'd lost all my tolerance in a year of sobriety, but Sam definitely didn't have that problem. When I got up to get us both another, it was easy to see why: her refrigerator looked like mine used to, boasting the four food groups of beer, liquor, takeout, and antique condiments.