Tag: scary

Since it’s been raining so much lately, I’ve been staying home most nights. It’s a drag for me, but I guess the neighbors are glad their kids have stopped disappearing.

I love children. They taste so much better than adults.

My father assured me that vampires don’t exist. Of course, that didn’t make me feel any better since it was the only explanation I had for why he kept drinking my blood.

When I heard a man’s voice coming from the kitchen, I snuck down the stairs and bludgeoned him to death with a baseball bat. I probably should’ve done something less drastic, after all, it was his house.

Her skin is so soft and smells like lavender. I wonder how many more times I can wear it before the smell of decay covers it up.

Not long after having freed my new flat screen from its styrofoam and plastic packaging, its brilliant glow fills my room. The only thing is…I haven’t had the chance to plug it in yet…

Halloween is my favorite day of the year. It’s the only day that I can walk down the street covered in blood and carrying a sack of severed body parts without being judged.

I cut down the tree in my front yard last week because the branches kept scratching and banging on my bedroom window every night. I’m starting to think the tree was the least of my problems, since the scratching and banging hasn’t stopped.

I went to a psychologist for the voices in my head and he prescribed me some pills. The pills didn’t stop the voices, but at least now I can see what they belong to.

Since I get free meat from work, I throw a barbeque party at least once a month. I guess that’s one of the benefits of working at an abortion clinic.

My father wasn’t too bad, but I still prefer my mother. Of course, now that I think of it, I may have just overcooked him.

I found a dead body buried in my garden. I wonder what happened to the other one.

I look at the clock and realize it is 12:07 as I scream and yell, blood dripping down my arms as she sinks her nails deeper and deeper into them. I wake up thankful it is only a dream. My heart starts to pound again after I read the time on the clock, 12:06.

After leaving my mother’s funeral and find out that know one has found her body, we come home and I tell my father that I’m hungry, then he tells me supper will be ready in 20 minutes, 20 minutes later I come into the kitchen, and sit down. My dad lifts the lid of the dish he has made, it looks like chicken legs, so I take a bite, and right after I do my fathers says, “Doesn’t you mother taste great?”

After leaving my mother’s funeral and find out that know one has found her body, we come home and I tell my father that I’m hungry, then he tells me supper will be ready in 20 minutes, 20 minutes later I come into the kitchen, and sit down. My dad lifts the lid of the dish he has made, it looks like chicken legs, so I take a bite, and right after I do my fathers says, “Doesn’t you mother taste great?”

I sweat and pant, and scream, but all that my father says to me is, “Honey you just 3 more years.” Little did I know that my punishment for not coming home on time would be to stay in closet for 3 years.