Scary/Creepy Stories || Stories from Reddit

I found my suicide note from years ago. I didn't write it. Part 2

From: r/nesleep
By: AsDeathBeckons
Link: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/8qcb27/i_found_my_suicide_note_from_years_ago_i_didnt/

I stared at my phone's screen, the only source of light in my pitch  black bedroom. I was frozen in shock, not sure what to say or do. This  wasn't right...it was well past two in the morning. My mother had never  texted me this late before. I let the screen fade to black, and I was  once again submerged in darkness. The creak of my fan spinning above me  only put me more on edge, and I remained lying in bed, completely numb.   

Surely she hadn't noticed that I had discovered this little piece of  paper that had been hidden away in an old comic book for more than a  decade. What the hell were the chances of that? Then again, my father  had definitely noticed my discomfort and skittishness in the attic...I  was even more anxious now. Maybe my mother was talking about something  else? Maybe she was referring to the comic book itself, or something  that she thought may have been of value to me or worth taking notice.  That still didn't explain why she needed to text me about something so  trivial at 2:30 in the morning. 

My phone buzzed again, the screen illuminating my face and making my  hand jerk in surprise. My phone flew into the air and I leapt, catching  it before it could land on the floor. I looked at the next message. 

"You awake, hun?" 

No, Mom, I am not awake, I decided at that moment. I would  leave her on unread all night and reply in the morning. I knew how  suspicious it would be if I responded at this time of night, even if I  played dumb. A good night's rest was needed anyway for me to deal with  the dilemma that was now at the forefront of my mind. I placed my phone  on my nightstand and pulled my covers tightly around myself. I don't  know when sleep came, but I woke to the sound of my phone buzzing once  again very soonafter. An immense torrent of dread poured down on me as I  read the message. 

"I didn't wanna have 2 do this"

No. This had gone way too far. This was my mother texting me for  crying out loud. It was time to man up and get to the bottom of this. I  unlocked my screen and tapped "Mom" to call her. That was when I heard  my mother's melodic ringtone down the stairs. She was in my house.

I sat up in bed, terror engulfing me like it had never done so  before. I heard the sound of heavy footsteps rushing quickly up the  stairs along with the ringtone, which played like a swan song for my  final moments. I had nothing to defend myself with; My dad had guns but I  had never wanted to touch one of the things before in my life. I tried  to hop out of bed, maybe find a hiding spot, but in my haste in the dark  I slipped, my phone flying through the air and landing on the other  side of the room. My bedroom door burst open and I heard someone run in.  

"What the fu-" I was hit in the mouth, and judging by the power  behind the blow, I knew I was dealing with a man. I kicked out, trying  to knock him off his feet, but he came down on me, striking me twice in  the face. I threw a punch of my own blindly in the dark and connected  with what I was sure was the man's throat. The last thing I remember was  hearing him cough before he knocked me out.  

I woke the next day feeling groggy as hell. My head was ringing and  there was dry blood on my mouth. The sunlight streaming in through the  curtains did nothing to remedy the situation. I sat up slowly, looking  all around the room to see whether or not I was alone. It seemed that I  was. The first thing I needed to do was call the police. Looking across  the room, however, I saw that my phone was gone. That made my head hurt  even more. Glancing towards my nightstand, where I had stashed the  suicide note, I saw that it was wide open. Now my head was surely going  to burst open. Someone who had been carrying my mother's phone had  actually come into my house, assaulted me, and stolen my phone and the  suicide note. This was too much. I knew I needed to record this  somewhere. I needed to before I suffered any memory loss from the  beating I had taken.  

I went down to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and walked around my  house, just to be sure my assailant had left. Nothing was out of place  or stolen. Whoever had come in the night had thrown a rock through one  of my windows, but the hole was barely large enough to fit a person  inside. This didn't make any sense. Why hadn't I heard it smashing? Then  I noticed the back door. I was nearly 100% sure that I had locked it  the day before. Now, however, it was unlocked. I knew I needed to get in  contact with the police immediately.  

I went to my laptop and hurriedly recorded the series of events up to  this point. Upon finishing up, I walked over to my neighbor's house, an  icebag held to my forehead. I used his phone to call the cops, and he  let me sit on his porch as we waited for them to arrive. When they did,  they asked me a series of questions about what exactly had happened.  This was the most difficult part for me. I wasn't sure how the person  who had taken my mother's phone had gotten in the house, whether they  were sent by her, or if it was even my dad I had been fighting the night  before...but I love my parents. I didn't want to drag them into this or  incriminate them...yet. So I lied. I told the cops I had no clue who  would want to steal my phone. I made no mention of the note. They dusted  for fingerprints on my back door and let the medical team patch me up.  Once I was cleared, the officers gave me a card with my case number and  told me they'd keep a squad car in the area.  

I knew what I had to do next, even if I didn't want to. I drove to my  parent's place...and was surprised to see that there were a couple of  cop cars sitting in their driveway as well. Fear stabbed at me like a  cold knife as I darted out of my car into the open front door. One of  the cops, standing near the stairs, spun around and raised a gun.  "Freeze!" 

"Put the damn gun down, that's my son," my father yelled angrily, and  I could see him, my mother, my brother Mack, and my nephew Elliot all  at the kitchen table. There were three other officers there in addition  to the one pointing the gun at me. He lowered it and looked at me  sternly. 

"You don't run into a crime scene like that. That's how people get hurt." 

"A crime scene? Mom, Dad, is everything okay?" 

Mom was still in her bathrobe; Elliot was looking down at a colorful book, flipping through the pages, and Mack was shaking.

"Someone broke in late last night," muttered my dad, his eyes  piercing. "Mack was helping me finish the attic so he Elli spent the  night here, thank God that bastard didn't hurt my grandson or I'd never  be able to forgive myself." 

"It's my fault, Dad," mumbled Mack, his voice hoarse. "I went outside  for a smoke and forgot to lock the back door. It was too easy for that  asshole to come in here."

"He stole our phones and the blu-ray player from the livingroom,"  said my mom, staring down at the floor. "He must have been planning to  take the T.V. too because he came back. Mack was going to the bathroom  and ran into the guy. He fought him, but the guy got away. He was very  careful and methodical. None of us heard a thing until the altercation."  

I looked at my brother. He had cuts on both arms, and, glancing over  at the smashed glass that had been the coffee table, I could see why.  Mack's right fist was busted as well, swelling up badly. 

"Someone broke into my place too." They all glanced at me. "Same thing, basically. Beat me up and took my phone."

My mother and father looked at each other, then back at me. The  police officers took a look at the card that the other officers had  given me for my incident, took a few more notes, then left. Mack had  refused medical attention. My mother hugged me as my father stood  shaking his head. Mack held Elliot close, as though afraid someone might  come back into the house. 

"Did you text me last night, Mom? Before your phone was stolen?" Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. 

"No, honey, I didn't..." 

We all sat in silence for a moment. "Hulk...SMASH!" giggled Elliot  loudly, and that was when I noticed what book he was flipping through.  It was my Incredible Hulk comic.