My Imperfect (Various!Creepypastas x Reader)

Common Route 2

Emilia is dead. Emilia is dead. Emilia is.... She's.... No..

"I'm devastated too, Y/N. I have lost everyone I have ever loved. My life seems like everything I love dies. Nobody deserves this." Mr. J says to me. I came over two days later after the doctors pronounced her dead in the hospital to speak with Mr. J one last time. We talk about funeral arrangements and what we should do with her things. He doesn't want to see them anymore and quite frankly, neither do I. I would feel horrible knowing that I could have stayed with her that night, or looked at that text sooner and saw her right before she took her last breath. That day after waking up, checking my text, and throwing my phone out the window, was the day I first knew that I hated myself.

Five years later

College is hell, professors are demons, and sororities are the souls sacrificed for their needs. I pick up my backpack at the end of lecture and head straight to my car. This is the same routine everyday: class, class, more class, and then home, rinse and repeat. I hate this.

After Emilia died, I was left to go through high school by myself, and because I am the way I am, I never made any friends. Now that college is here, my nanny left my house and pursued her job as an exotic dancer. As for me, well... I'm going to college because I have nothing else to do. Mr. J left the neighborhood and relocated somewhere out of state for his job, getting a new number, address, and hopefully a new family. I haven't heard from him since that day we last talked, I don't blame him either.

My home is the same, but it is weird. Things go missing from my house all the time, and it's just abnormal. Things from my fridge would disappear, socks, hairpins, the backs of my earrings; it's just odd.

I get back to my house and see that I had left the door unlocked, which is funny because I never leave my door so precariously open like that. It is late at night and honestly Idgaf right now. I walk right on in and lay my things by the door, walk up the stairs, and go to the bathroom to take a shower. I take off my jacket and hang it on the hook by the door and look at my face in the mirror. I really need to scrub this anxiety and failure off my skin that was radiated by other students. As I turn to lock the door, I hear a noise coming from the room next to me. I quiet down and listen. Nothing. I walk over to the shower to turn the handle when I stop. I most definitely hear something. I turn to walk to the door and unlock it, turning the handle, and slowly open the door. A man stands two feet away, staring at me, smiling at me. I quickly try to close the door, but he puts his foot right in front of it, stopping it from locking. He walks forward into the bathroom while I back up, almost tripping into the bathtub. He has a knife easily seen in his left hand and tries to swing it at me. I move my face to the side, letting the blade give me a small cut of my cheek before meeting with my shoulder. As perpetrator swings his arm up again to hit me, I hit him on the shoulder, throwing him off his balance and run out of the bathroom. I run as fast as I can down the stairs and out of the house. Screw getting a jacket and phone, don't you watch movies? They all die when they do that! I run down the street and run into the woods for cover, more cover than I needed actually, because I run a little too far from home and get lost.

Nothing but trees for miles it seems, but I'm sure if I walk the direction I came from then I should be able to get back. I walk through the woods a little more until I realize that I am majorly cold. It is November and it's freezing outside!

I get discouraged and lean by a tree, sliding down the trunk and land on the ground. Maybe this is how I should end? Being in a cold, deep sleep as I die? Forced out of existence by a chubby, mid thirties killer?

My thoughts become clouded by memories of what was one good in my life. The clouds, the sky, Emilia. God, how I miss the moments I could be carefree and do whatever I want. I feel like I'm drowning in everything I do. I wish that someone, anyone, could feel the pain that I do, and just.... Just... Save me.