If Only, If Only

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is basically a horror short story/Creepypasta about Shane Dawson. I was really shocked when I couldn't find any Creepypastas about Shane Dawson online, so I decided to make my very own. I think this could be the first Creepypasta based on Shane, which makes me really excited, because no one else has done this before, it seems. I hope so! :) Enjoy!

Submitted: July 01, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 01, 2016



You remember how there was always that weird kid in school who was never really up-to-speed in the social skills department? The kid who hardly talked, and when they did talk, usually said something that would scare people or gross them out? Or like never even existed, like he was never even there? The kid who was universally bullied by the other kids, who then tried to justify it by saying they "deserved" it? My senior class had Shane Yaw (that was his real last name, which a lot of people don’t know), who was definitely one of those kids.


Shane Yaw was pretty much a poster child for the loner scene - always dressed in weird bright out of style clothing, always listening to various kinds of cheesy 2000s pop music, and completely obsessed with horror movie script writing and video filming stuff. Did I mention he was really fat? We always figured he kept writing those scripts and filming all of his stuff just to disturb and disgust the teachers and the students and get attention from us. That's why none of us were afraid to mess with him. At worst, the kids would shove him around, steal his books, and, at one point, set one of his scripts on fire. At best, they simply ignored what was going on and called him a "freak.” Since my school, Lakewood High, was quite small, this included almost all of the seniors. Poor Shane never stood a chance. A few weeks before graduation, a group of us had begun to hassle Shane about his scripts again. However, this time, instead of glaring or shouting, he began to laugh. Then, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and off, revealing a large, rounded, rectangular symbol with a giant triangle in the middle, which looked liked the “play” button on DVD and VCR players, carved into his chest. The carvings themselves had been scabbed over, but small splotches of red remained where the blood had stained his pale white, chubby, pimply, skin. What was that symbol? What did it mean? Did it have something to do with those horror movie scripts and and those videos he liked to film? I feel the red blood was the appropriate color for the symbol he carved on his chest. I felt like it meant something more. What did it remind me of? And then it hit me...that was the eventual logo for the site YouTube!!! (What the hell does that mean?!?!) Anyways... my girlfriend Winter Ryder at the time would tell me that she had seen similar markings on his arms that day. "I'm going to Hell soon," I remember him saying to us, "I'll see all of you there." No one bothered him after that, and I assume that one of us told the principal about it, because the next day he was taken to an mental institution and placed on suicide watch. A week later, a letter was sent to all of our parents saying that Shane had died in the mental hospital. Throughout the next few days, all of the teachers were tight-lipped on the exact nature of his suicide. But those of us who knew him well knew it wasn’t pleasant. After we had all graduated, Shane was pretty much forgotten. I stayed in touch with some of my fellow classmates and lost contact with others. Once Facebook became popular, I would reunite with quite a few Class of 2006 alumni, and that was when I learned that seven of them have died already. I then watched, one by one, all the students from that single class died over the course of a less than ten years. Some were listed as accidents; others went missing. Some, however, had been violently decapitated, their heads not so much as cut off than devoured. The murders unsurprisingly left our entire hometown of Long Beach, California devastated and fearful. In the end, only three of us were left, and we all agreed to meet back home and ask the police to protect us and our families. When I arrived at the meeting spot, the other two never came. Now, when I go to sleep at night, I keep a gun under my pillow and a rosary in my hand, begging God to protect me and begging Shane Yaw to forgive me. I'm so sorry, Shane. We all are. Especially me, I treated you like shit, and I’ll never forgive myself... This is strange, but, sometimes, at night, when I’m thinking about the YouTube logo he carved on his stomach, and the whole messy ordeal that happened ten years ago… If only he devoted his life to YouTube, he could’ve saved himself from his mental breakdown and kept him stable and happy. It could of lead to better things, like actually directing that movie he was always writing a script on, or maybe even writing a book about his life. Maybe it was a cry for help or something. Maybe he was trying to tell us something. I just don’t know. I’ll never know. Maybe it would have kept him sane, kept him from insanity… I could have only wondered what life he could’ve made for himself if he just stayed on that website...If only...

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