The Girl

She will die. Her white hair, once black, is falling out, and her blue eyes are red and have bags beneath them. She is weary, even though she is only twelve.

On her first day of middle school, she pushed through the doors, her midnight hair held by a bow. She gripped her backpack straps as she made her way to the gym, where the kids played and waited for class to start. She noticed some kids sitting and joined them in the act. A boy swaggered over.

“I’ve never seen you here before.” He said. “I just moved to this town.” Replied the girl. “Thought so.” The boy left her. Finally the bell rang, and she checked her schedule. Science class first. She made her way up the stairs through the crowd of people, past whispering groups, and to the science room. She looked around at the posters of body systems, cells, and plants, gingerly placing her backpack on a desk and slipping into a seat.

She left science class with a heavy heart. She stared at the ground through her straight black hair, rubbing her sore calf, before someone slammed into her, sending her toppling to the floor. The kid bounded away as she slowly rose and started away. Ever since she had been being bullied, she couldn’t shake the feeling of depression she had. When school finally ended, she threaded her way through the crowd outside to the bus and boarded it. She picked her way to an empty seat by an open window. She ignored the kid behind her, tugging at her hair, laughing at her. The sun was setting over a snowy horizon. She shivered as the cold breeze snaked inside through the window as the bus began moving, but she didn’t try to close it. A boy sat beside her, but she ignored the indent of the seat, lifting her anorexic body. An hour later and it was dark. She squirmed in the seat as she noticed something alongside the road, standing slightly. Suddenly, she felt hands on her shoulders, and she was shoved through the window with a scream.

She lay shivering in the snow, her thin black shirt and long skirt hardly protecting her from the soaking and cold sludge. She immediately rose to her feet, teeth chattering. She stared after the bus as it disappeared around a bend. The last thing she saw of the bus was the backlight flickering through the trees, kicking up gravel, and then, silence. She froze, acutely aware now of her freezing pain. She glanced around, through the trees, at the sky, anywhere. Suddenly, fear overtook her and she ran down the rise that was the road and into the bracken. Vines tripped her feet and branches slapped her face, but she continued running. She ran until her lungs gave out and she collapsed onto a bed of snow-covered leaves. “Help…” she squeaked. She knew it was a stupid move, running away from the road like that, but she was in a fright. She let her head fall into a small pile of snow and closed her eyes. Her entire frame shook like a leaf in Autumn. She curled up to conserve as much body heat as she could and tried to sleep.

She snapped awake at a loud crash. She whirled to the source of the sound and saw a man. “Help!” She cried. He did not respond. She rose. Perhaps he was deaf or hard of hearing. “Sir, help! Please!” Her voice was hoarse with cold and exhaustion. She knew she would be sick after this adventure. She cupped her hands over her mouth as she yelled once more before falling silent. “Oh….” The man turned to look over his shoulder. He was bald and his face completely lacked hair. His bug eyes were misproportioned, one facing the left, the other facing the ground. His maw was toothless and he wore white clothes that were stained with bodily fluids and dirt. His skin was pail as the snow itself, probably from the cold. The second the girl took him in she jumped back and began to cry slightly. He turned his whole body around and his eyes twitched. “Hello.” He said slowly, like a large child. She backed away quickly, and he took a step forward, lifting his foot like a puppet and slamming it down, sending loose flakes into the air. “D-don’t!” She squeaked, bumping into a tree. She carefully navigated around it with her hands, never taking her eyes off the man. “Don’t what?” He giggled, making the girl all the more uncomfortable. “Stay back!” Her eyes squeezed shut. “Leave me alone!” Babbling, he took two more unsteady steps forward. She whipped around and charged through the forest, practically flying over the ground, her heart in her mouth. She heard loud, offset stomps behind her, those of the man-child’s. Her hair raised as his hot breathe hit the back of her neck. “Come on and stay with me.” He reached out a grubby sausage hand and touched her hand.

She lost it.

She threw herself to the ground and began bawling hopelessly. She had been shoved out the window onto cold snow, ran far away from the road, and was now being chased by a behemoth. She was terrified as she attempted to crawl away from him, but he leaned down and grabbed her skin tightly, as if it were fabric, sending it tearing. Pain seared through her, and she spasmed, flailing wildly at the man in an attempt to stop him. He laughed and lifted her up by her hair, sending her shrieking so loud that her vocal chords nearly broke. She screamed again, and again, as he brought her mucus and tear covered face close to his and began poking at her eyes, opening them. Her eyes nearly popped out as he stuck his fingers on the top and bottom of her eyes, ready to pop the out or in. Then she heard a bark, and the tearing of fabric. She was dropped in the sludge, facedown, still sobbing, as the man was attacked by a large dog. She heard voices over the childish man screams and snarls of the dog as someone lifted her up and held her close. She screamed the best she could with paining a paining throat.

When she was brought to the hospital by her mother, she was put in a bed to be treated, and kept in a stall. Her hair was white from shock and fear, and her eyes were red with excess tears. Her clothes were changed and she was put in warm clothes as the nurse fretted over the cuts on her ankles and scratched on her face. She was kept there for a few more days before being sent back home. The man was found and put in an asylum, as he had escaped so long ago that townsfolk had forgot about him. Presumably he had eaten raw animals to stay alive, but the proffesionals said it was unlikely, that he probably ate leaves and berries. The girl hardly slept anymore, and ate even less than she already did. She asked her father how he found her, and he told her that the bus driver explained how and the witnesses said that they saw the boy push her. Even after the traumatic accident, she still had to do schoolwork soon after, and attend the same dangerous school. She didn’t want that to happen again, and the extreme amount of homework they loaded onto her for missing because of the hospital days stressed her. She was a wreck, and slowly, day by day, she was killing herself.



I hope you liked my first story. Please explain my errors in the comments and tell me if I should write more stories or not. Thanks again.


  • Fiver

    The story has a lot of small mistakes that can be fixed with proof reading.You have a lot of sentence fragments and nonsensical phrases throughout the story. Some words are misused. The way you write is very inconsistent as well. You way of using imagery changes through here and your vocabulary is jumbled. Just proof read and work on using the proper words. More complex words aren`t always better.
    Another issue is the plot. It is littered with cliches. So much of this is completely unneeded. It starts off with a twelve year old`s phenotype changing, some how, and aging rapidly, yet in the end it has to do with a monstrous man. The bullying is cliche and unnecessary, as is the black hair turning white. There is no build up, just all this pointless fluff that is littered with mistakes anyways. It is unrealistic as well, and while I know it is made up you need to be a little realistic in how characters act and with certain situations. Even stories with these crazy monsters will have some realism in them.
    You should always keep writing, take this harsh critique as a drive rather than an insult. Keep working, it takes a long time to improve. When I wrote my first creepypasta it was far worse than this. You have a good start so keep practicing, maybe get friends or family to proof read for you to help.

    • Konye Johnson

      The ending was a bit too abrupt

  • Hi_there

    Not creepy