Creepypasta Stories to Make You Shiver

May 19th (Ted the Caver Pt. 10 | End)

It has been three weeks since our last visit to the cave. I want to update everyone as to my condition, my plans for the cave, and the events of the past few weeks. I apologize for not returning your phone calls. I have been getting all of your messages, I just haven't felt up to calling back. Steve and Marc, thanks for your words of encouragement on my answering machine. I know you two are sincerely concerned for me. You are awesome friends. Marc, I know you stopped by the house a few times, and I'm sorry I never answered the door. It really helped me just knowing you dropped by. Sis, I can hear the worry in your voice. I'm o.k. Don't worry about me. Just take care of those nieces and nephews of mine.

I figure if I can get this site updated I can let everyone know at once about how I am doing. A lot has happened in the last three weeks, so I'll do my best to cover everything. I guess I should start where the last entry left off. It took several days to get the last journal entry written down. I was so shook up from the experience that I could do little else but sit around and ponder what had happened. Right now I am on long term medical leave from work. I tried to go to work several days after the event, but my boss sent me home. I couldn't concentrate and I looked terrible. I've even been to the doctor, but I couldn't tell him about the experience, so I just told him I was under a lot of stress. He recommended rest and gave me a prescription to help me relax. Mmmmm! Good drugs!

When we left the cave I was nearly in a state of shock. I could not think clearly and was having a difficult time trying to understand what had happened. I didn't eat much nor did I get any sleep. I was glad I had the presence of mind to write down my experience while it was fresh in my mind. As I re-read what I wrote I feel like I accurately portrayed what happened in the cave that day. I wouldn't change anything I wrote. Even though it took three days to write it, when I finished writing in my journal I felt much better. I guess it was kind of therapeutic. Unfortunately it didn't last. In fact, it was after then that things got really bad.

B and I parted company after the trip and I didn't see him again until yesterday. I didn't try to reach him, and he didn't try to get a hold of me. Nor did either of us try to contact Joe. B just dropped me off after the trip and I spent the next several days by myself in my house. I tried to eat but had no appetite. I was restless, but I couldn't find anything to do to take my mind off the experience. That's when I determined that I should write it down. As I mentioned, that helped me think a little clearer, and I seemed to be a little calmer, but it didn't last. I went to work the next day but was sent home. The day after that I had an overwhelming feeling of anxiety sink into my soul. I was depressed and confused and had no one I wanted to turn to for comfort. I was getting all kinds of phone calls from people but I just let the answering machine take the calls. I even changed the message on the machine to let everyone know I was alright. I continued in this miserable state, eating and sleeping whenever I could manage, until a week after the trip. Then things started to get strange.

At first I was hearing sounds in the house that had no explanation. Footsteps. Shuffling noises. Creaking doors. You know, the typical horror movie fare. Only the sounds were not distinct. It was as though I wasn't sure I heard what I thought I heard. I would be eating or getting out of the shower, and stop, thinking I heard something. But the sound would not repeat itself. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that it happened frequently, I couldn't be sure there were noises in the first place. Either way, I was scared. It was as though I had been caught in a spider web for the last week. Feelings of anxiety, foreboding, tension filled my life. Then came the hallucinations.

I began seeing things in a manner similar to the sounds I was hearing. Just a glimpse of something in the corner of my eye. When I would turn to look, nothing. I had been sleeping with the lights on in my room, but now I kept all the lights in the house on from before dusk to after dawn. When I started to see things on a regular basis I purchased a gun. Got it from an ad in the paper so I didn't have to wait for a permit. I went to the doctor but didn't mention the details of my life. Just told him I couldn't relax, and I walked out of there with a prescription. Fortunately my wounds and injuries were pretty much healed by this time. My back still hurt a little, but the prescription took care of that, too. When I was on the medication I felt great, but I didn't want to walk around high the rest of my life, so I would only take it at the end of a tough day. Unfortunately the severity of the sightings increased, giving rise to a need for the medication.