Porcelain Shylo [A Original Creepypasta OC Story]

Chapter 3

Shylo entered his house, and fell against the door.

"So the killer hasn't been caught yet.."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He told himself that he was dreaming, and this wasn't really. He'd wake up, and happily be with his father again.

But deep down inside, Shylo knew that this was his life, and there was no escape. His mother would torment and taunt him until his death, her haunting words and hurtful punches would last forever.

He couldn't get the image of his mother out of his head. Her glowing green eyes, and that smile.. The smile was the worst. Her teeth were crooked and small.

He shivered and shook his head. Shylo decided to be brave, and stand up.

Once he opened his eyes, he noticed that the whole house was dark. There was no light in the kitchen, living room, or even any bedrooms.

He smiled. Maybe his mother wasn't home? Maybe she went with the police officers?

He started laughing, out of relief. He finally had some time to himself! He was free!

This was very rare, she usually stayed at home. She never ever went anywhere. She was very reserved and quiet.

Shylo began to walk slowly into the hallway, and looked in one of the rooms. He couldn't see much, so he couldn't tell what room this was.

He took a deep breath, and walked in. This was his mother's room.

He had never been in there before, since she wouldn't let him go in.

The room was small, and the walloaper was dark blue, decorated with small painted flowers. It was kind of a cute room, to be honest.

There was a small bed, that was messy, and had papers all over it. "Probably bills she can't pay" Shylo said out loud. He smiled.

Shylo picked up the papers, and looked at them. Nothing interesting he thought.

A small urge crept up on him. He didn't know if he should do it, since his mother could find out when she got home. He gripped the papers... He wanted to do it so bad.

"Fuck it. If I die, I'll be happier that way." He held the papers above his head, and threw them as fast as he could across the room.

The papers slowly swayed to the floor, with a fluttering sound.

Shylo felt a little bit of weight fall off of him. That was one of the most brave things he had ever done.

He looked around the room some more, and something caught his eye.

He backed up a little bit, and slightly fell against her cluttered desk.

There was a doll. Tons of dolls! They looked smooth, and hand made. One of the dolls had an arm missing, and an eyeball missing. One of them looked just like Shylo.

He slowly got up, and walked over to the twin doll.

He shakily picked it up, and examined it.

It was smooth, and slightly cracked. It looked exactly like him.. But..

There was a slight difference.

Shylo struggled to see it, since the only sense of light was the moon light that was peeping through he small mahogany colored window.

He held it closer to his eyes, and blinked.

Shylo couldn't believe the sight. It was him, but he looked almost.. Dead?