Cursed Lily

It all started with Lily quickly becoming her father’s favorite child. She didn’t want to be his favorite though. You see, being his favorite had its perks but it also meant she had to do things she didn’t want to do. He had abused her from age five until now, as she’s fifteen.

Current Day, Lily’s P.O.V

I wake up to the harsh sound of yelling. After listening in, I notice that it’s my parents fighting about something. I decide not to think too much about it as I get ready for the day. I don’t go to school, my father has me on homeschooling. I rush to the bathroom and grab my hairbrush and some hair ties. I do my hair up in dual braids just the way daddy likes it and then brush my teeth. I start muttering to myself, “I wonder if mother mentioned that I told her. I know what he’s been doing is bad so I told her. I hope she didn’t tell him. Oh god if she told him this isn’t going to end well at all…” I continue mumbling and go over to my closet, grabbing a black tee-shirt and blue jeans. I notice the yelling stopped. Almost immediately after I finish changing the door bursts open and standing there is my father, looking absolutely furious.

He says with a dark tone, “You f*****g b***h. You told her. I told you not to tell anyone. Now mommy is dead and it’s all because you said something you shouldn’t have.” He walks closer to me, unbuckling his belt. “Now this is going to make it harder for you. Don’t scream and it’ll hurt less.” He raises the hand with his belt in it and swings the belt at my face. I wince in pain, but I obey him and keep quiet. He strikes me again and again until the pain becomes unbearable. He then drops the belt and unbuckles his pants, dropping them to the ground. “You know what to do, Lily.” I close my eyes and drop to my knees. Instead of doing what he expects, I reach into my bra and grab out a switch blade.

I raise my voice, “Never again, father!” I switch the blade and raise it, cutting off his g******s. He screams in agony and falls to his knees. We’re face to face as I exclaim, “You f*****g monster! You killed my mother, now I’m going to kill you,” I lower my voice to a low whisper. “Listen to me now. Think about this while you’re still breathing. R****g me was a f*****g mistake,” I hear sirens closing in. “Damn it, they’re coming,” I grasp the knife and plunge it into his chest until he falls to the ground, lifeless. I then hear a banging on the front door, then footsteps head up the stairs. I do the only rational thing and stab myself in the chest, hoping it’ll kill me. My vision fades quickly to darkness.

Unfortunately, I open my eyes slowly and I’m in a hospital room. It’s fairly easy to tell, you see every hospital has a very sickening smell of pure cleanness. Over me stands a very happy looking couple, although I have no idea who they are. Apparently, my confusion shows as they hurry to explain. “Hello Lily! We’re so happy to see you awake. We run the New York Mental Institute, we’re here to help you get better. I hope-”

I quickly cut her off. Literally. I yank the needle out of my arm, launch it at her, and it hits her throat. “Shut up, old hag. I don’t need your help, I need to die. You need to die too.” I stand up shakily and walk towards to couple. They run out, screaming. I sigh. “Finally. Now. What to do, what to do…” I walk down the halls, wielding a butter knife. Several nurses stop me and attempt to usher me back to my room but it results in them being stabbed. Not long afterwards, the sirens go off and security guards rush in and restrain me. They pull out a needle and inject me with some bright serum. I instantly calm down and my body goes limp. One guy picks me up and takes me outside to a car. After placing me in the car, he sits next to me. “You’re not a real security guard, are you?” He shakes his head. “Then what are you, huh? A ninja?” He laughs and shakes his head again. His laugh is stifled through his helmet.

“I’m not a ninja. I’m like you. We’re taking you somewhere safe, don’t worry.” As though on cue, a truck rams into the side of the car, causing blood to splatter everywhere, especially on me. After a few minutes the car stops moving and I try to open the door but it caves in, crushing my arm under it. I wince in pain and try to yank my arm free. It doesn’t work. A dark figure stands over me and laughs.

The dark figure says darkly, “You thought you killed me, b***h? No, I’m still here. But you’re not.” He stands on the door which is on my arm and he grabs my head. “Goodbye little girl.” He puts his other hand on my head and I feel intense pain rushing though my everywhere. And that’s it. The end of it. Everything is dark and my breathing seizes. But then my vision comes back and I see a white figure.

The white figure is glowing. It says, “Lily, you’re not done yet. A curse has been placed upon you. You shall never die. You will return and finish what you started. Go and join the family. You know the one I’m talking about. Now be gone, out of my sight.” The scene changes and it’s the dark figure again.

“Father, is that you?” I get a better look at him and see that it is in fact him. I thought I had killed my father but alas, here he stands. “How are you still alive?”

He smirks and states, “The doctors brought me back.” I push the door off my arm, which knocks him on his a*s. I fill with rage and small items start floating around me.

I raise my arms and scream, “That’s it!” The scraps all fly towards him, impaling him in countless places, but that’s not enough. I get up and stalk towards him, grabbing a shard of glass. Upon reaching him, I plunge the glass shard into his forehead. “Have fun in hell, dickless d**k.”

***

And that’s the story of Cursed Lily. To this day, she haunts over everyone who’s like her father and she kills them. She’s the cause of death for countless rapists and abusive parents.

  • Тимофей Никифоров

    Go do something productive, 15 year old girl who thinks she’s a good creepypasta writer. This story is more Mary Sue-ish than most 9 yo girls’ characters.

    • Vanna Austin

      Okay, “something more productive”? Well writing is my passion. This creepypasta thing was me trying out something new, sorry if it’s not up to your standards. But this is what I love, and you can’t try to tear me down like that.

      • Тимофей Никифоров

        Sorry if I sounded rude, I take back what I said about “something more productive,” but this story is really poor, not because of execution, but because of the idea itself.
        Seriously, this is like playing Mary Sue bingo. Abused as a child? Check. Gains supernatural powers out of nowhere? Check. Murders everyone in her way? Check. Fights for justice better than actual trained professionals? Check.
        People don’t like reading about someone else’s fantasies of becoming powerful and murdering everyone they hate. It’s obvious this girl was implied to be you.
        I suggest you start by writing about someone you can’t project onto, like a 9 year old boy or something. I know it’s harder but that would pay off in the end. Best of luck to you!

        • Vanna Austin

          Thank you for your feedback, and I will take this into consideration.

  • Vanna Austin

    Thank you for your feedback.