A hard tap echoes inside of my room as I slam the "enter" key on my laptop. Filled with exhaustion and annoyance, I sit alone, listening to music as I finish the rest of my essay for class. My chair groans along with me as I lean back, stretching and gazing out the window to the side. The suburbs are devoid of both people and cars, which is to be expected after dark. Such a fact adds an even deeper cut to my soul on a night like this.
It's "one of those nights": a night where you feel alone, as if you were the only person in the world. It's a night of nostalgia, emptiness, and fear all meshed into one monstrous feeling. As I get older, the feeling builds up inside me more and more like a close friend coming to visit. Each time, it hurts more than the last. I stare at my laptop screen, judging my work and finding myself to be disappointed. Many students like myself have learned to settle for "enough" when it comes to school. Things used to be so easy... and interesting.
Now, all that's left inside of me is boredom and exhaustion. I close my laptop and leave myself in darkness. Hobbies are without their fulfillment and passions are without their enthrallment. It's like my old self left without a word. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness.
Despite that, I still have a life ahead of me. I'm not omniscient, so there's no telling if something good might actually come my way, right? Something inside me tells me otherwise. Good or not, I guess I'll have to make do. If it happens, it happens, as my friend would say.
I slide into bed at the same time I've always done it. I'll wake up at around the same time as usual tomorrow, earlier if it was a school day. Living a mundane, repetitive life like this can drive people insane, can't it? It certainly feels like it.
However, the insanity slips away as my eyes close. The normality is drained from me as dreams replace the waking reality.
A warm liquid gushes into my mouth, and I begin to choke. Instinctively, I swim upward, and my head breaches the surface of the water I'm treading. Spitting and gagging, I gasp down air as my tongue is bathed in salt water.
Wiping my eyes, I see in red. The redness, I realize, is blood — a peerless sea of it, and I'm smack in the middle. All of it drains away as if the creature it flowed through was gutted. My feet find solid, crimson ground, and I fall backwards as I slip on the dark red liquid. I land on soft flesh and stare into the sunken eyes of a dead man.
The sea of blood is replaced by a field of bodies whose limbs reach upward like tall grass. I shriek and scramble to my feet. I'm naked and, in my right hand, I clutch a blood-soaked kitchen knife. Wet slapping comes from behind me, and I whirl around in time to see a black haired girl sprinting toward me, about to drive a knife into my face.
As soon as it makes contact, I wake up in a cold sweat. My body jolts to life like Frankenstein's monster as I take in my home environment. Rolling out of my bed, I hit the floor and fully expect to land on corpses again, but I'm met with the hard touch of wood. Drunk with sleepiness, I look around for the light, dread resting in my stomach like a brick, and flip the switch.
I'm blinded, but I blink away the pain as I squint at my empty bedroom. When I come to the conclusion that there's no intruder, I become conscious of my heart and lungs. My source of life beats as if I had finished a marathon, and my chest heaves in panic.
It was a nightmare. Just a little nightmare. Not real. I begin to laugh and can't help but grin ear to ear.
YOU ARE READING
Pure of Mind and Sharp of Knife (Male Reader x Female Creepypasta)
RomanceFirst of all, I do not own any characters within this book -- only a few minor characters are of my creation. The Creepypasta characters are all owned by their respective creators which do not include myself. It began with a nightmare: a sea of bloo...
