Isolated [Creepypasta x Reader]

Unite.

"More choices in a limited time didn't mean didn't mean you could do everything-it meant that you could do anything, so you probably did nothing, frozen with indecision."

― Brent Weeks

★★★

The soles of my feet are positively aching by the time I make it home. A mile trek to school and back was just tiring beyond belief. I sigh, rolling my shoulders as I pull a loose brick from the wall of the body of my home, exposing a small key. Putting keys underneath the doormat was just a little too cliché for my tastes honestly.

I lock the door and discard my shoes. The house is eerily quiet (per usual) and I'm at peace. The silence was a little unnerving but very easy to become acquainted with once you spend large lengths of time in it. I grumble and slide my way across the wood floor in my socks to the kitchen, thinking of a couple of ways to waste my time before I myself had to go to work. I know that it's all too likely that I would be left alone until at least midnight due to my dad's own work schedule.

I consider my options quietly. I didn't live too far out of town but just far enough to experience some of the nature that Alaska has to offer. I had two options: loaf around home or go out and do something for a change. A single granola bar and a sip of tea help me decide my course of action.

Grabbing a messenger bag with required contents and an old water canteen, I make my way to the front doorstep again. Even as I kneel down to tie my shoes my legs and feet seem to protest against all movement. And perhaps, on a different day you would heed their call for rest, but, unfortunately for them, you have other plans.

After locking the door again I make my way down a branching path to the right of my house, leading me into a small, thinly forested patch of land. I hummed absently as I followed the well-beaten path, ducking under the branches of a couple of evergreen trees that hung low. The brush soon gives way to my favorite place in the entirety of Alaska, the Magic Bus.

The Magic Bus was actually an ancient bus that had been parked back behind the trees and abandoned in times that had long since passed. I had spent a good portion of my time with my dad at this bus, picking apart the interworking of the blue machine and lazing around on top or inside it. Today I decided that my destination would be the roof.

Climbing up the back of the Magic Bus, I heaved my messenger bag over first before hauling myself up after. Within minutes all of the contents of my pack are spread across the surface of the metal roof. For a while I simply sit and forge my dad's signature on a couple of syllabi, taking note of each teachers' late work policy. Dad wasn't around often enough to take care of these.

"Only a week in and I'm all ready to throw myself off a cliff," I grumble to myself nastily as I replay a couple of events from today's school day. Just one more year and a couple of college applications and I would finally be free from this no-name small town. I could make a new life somewhere else and get my dad out too once I was well off enough. Just a little more work, just a little more effort and I would be free, or so I attempted to convince myself.

It wasn't healthy for me to dwell so much on events of the past but that reality didn't exactly stop me from doing it. Fishing out my sketchbook, I begin to doodle some of the scenery around me along with a couple other unidentifiable objects. I was completely absorbed in my drawing when a crashing sound in the brush made me stop and look up with irritation. Closing my sketchbook with a quiet 'snap' I shuffle to my feet. I don't make another move until I grab a small swiss army knife from my bag.