A Story Too True for Words

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a FICTIONAL story about how sometimes being mean comes back to haunt you.

Submitted: March 31, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 31, 2009



My story is a true one. It’s one that every parent should tell to their kids, and one that teachers should teach to their students. If you don't believe me, then you're in for a treat.

It all started on the day before Halloween. I was at school when Darren walked over to me.

“Hey, Dora,” he said in his shy voice. Darren was a shy kid. He kept to himself, andtalked to one or two other people, but for the most parthe was the outcast ofour freshman class.

“What do you want? I’m in the middle of something.” That wasn’t true. I was just talking with my friends until the bell rang, but I really didn’t want to talk to that little creep, because that's what he was, acreep. I would have never thought of talking to that idiot on my own. He wasn't in my group, and anybody who wasn't in my group I didn't talk to.

“Do you want to take a walk with me tonight around eight?”

Me take a walk with you, no,” I said in my snottiest voice. I would not be seen with someone like him. He was...weird. He always smelled of dirtafter a rain, and his shoes where rarely clean. Theyalways seemed to have mud and gunk on them.With that, he started to walk away. I seemed to have hurt his feelings. It did not bug me at all, though.

Kelsey, my best friend, leaned over to me. “Why not, chica?” she asked, “You never know. Something good could happen.” She smirked and elbowed me in the ribs.

I know what she met by that. She met that maybe he’ll screw up and we’ll have reason to mock him forever. Kelsey and I where good at doing that -- making a fool out of people. It gave us a sense of power.So what, yeah, we where bullies, but we where also the two most popular girls in our class, we didn't care.The last time we'd made a fool out of someone was actually last week.James Ozich started hitting on Kelsey at a major party. Sowe both decided toflirtwithhim. Then Kelsey gave James her number like she actually wanted to date him - hah! That nerd, with his geeky glasses and his flannel shirts. Not a chance! So anyway, theystarted talking on the phone, and did so for about a week. ThenJames asked her ifshe wanted to go out. She was like sure, and then thenext day at school she pretended like she never knew who James was, and wouldn't pickup herphone. Then she broke up with him in the middle of historyclass!!! Hahahahahaha, that was a priceless look on his face. What I wouldn't give to seehis face again. My answer was decided.

“You know what, Darren, on second thought,I’d love to come,"I called out down the hall."You can pick me up at my house at eight.”

He perked up at that. “See you then.”

That night it was almost 8 o’clock, and I just couldn’t wait until he messed up. The clock in the hall struck, that stupid cucko - cucko - cucko,but before it could finish the doorbell rang.

He’s actually here at the right time. Talk about desperate, I thought. I went to the door. Sure enough, there he was wearing - suprisingly pretty normal clothes. His shoes however where a different story. The same shoes as always, and his usual dirt smell now changed to cologn, dirt, smell mixed. I tried not to barf.

“I’m sorry that I’m so late. I was dead tired after school, and I took a little – nap-- if that’s what you want to call it,” he said laughing.

Your such a freak, I thought doing my best to keep the look I was dying to make off of my face.

“Bye Mom, bye Dad, I’m going now. I’ll be back around nine!” My Dad came to see us off. My Dad, my Dad,he hasalways thought I was the perfect little girl. All A's, on cheerleading, I was perfect to him. Boy, where parents dumb! Did they actually have brains, literally!

We walked for a little bit around town talking about things that he liked. Some of them where very disturbing, like how he had this weird obsession with zombies. He knew all about them, what they ate, what they did, and where they sleep. (Just in case you are wondering, 'cause I know you care oh so much,they sleep in the same grave which they were buried in. They dig themselves out when it’s time to “wake up”.) I supressed a yawn. Gosh was this kid boring. Oh boy, am I going to have a good time tomorrow or what? I thought.

The next thing I knew we were at the gates to the cemetery. He went straight up to the locked gate and before I could even blink the gate squeaked open. Woah, wait a minute, how'd that happen? I thought.

“Do you think that we should go in there?”

“Yeah, why not?” he answered. Before I could reply he seized my wrist and started to pull me through the gate.

Inside the cemetery it was pitch black, as black as the ocean water right before a deadly storm. There were no stars or streetlamps, only the moon that every once in a while poked through from behind the dark, black clouds. It smelled like some moldy, ghost ridden house. It also smelled, I noticed, like dirt right after the rain -- just like Darren....

I was pretty scared at the moment. I hatedcemetaries. They've creeped me out for as long as I can remember, and ever since getting olderthey have creeped me out even more -- of course watching all those scary movies at Kelsey's didn't help either.We kept going deeper and deeper into the graveyard. From somewhere behind me an owl hooted. It was just like a horror movie scene when an owl hoots and then all of a sudden a hand comes out and grabs the main charactors. Then no one can find them for weeks until suddenly one by one their mangled, decayingbodies are found, with no known cause as to what happened to them. Okay, I had had enough.

“Let’s go back, Darren, this is freaking me out.” I started to pull my wrist free, but his grip just tightened.

“Now, now, Dora, you’ve been a naughty girl, and I’m going to teach you a lesson.” I looked into his face and saw that his eyes had sunken back into his suddenly wrinkled face. His hair had shriveled and was being sucked back into his head. He looked just like an Egyptian mummy after spending 200 years underground.

“What’s going on, what are you?!?” I asked hysterically dreading to find out the answer.

“I’m someone who absolutely hates people like you; people who think they are better than everyone else and they make fun ofpeople every chance they get. My friends feel the same way.” His sneer told me that his “friends” would look exactly like him. I was supprised that I didn't die of fright.

“I really don’t want to talk to your friends.” I was close to weeping now, but Darren kept pulling me closer and closer to some run down looking headstones. They where old, I could tell, moss had started growing on them and they suddenly gave off a creepy green, glowinglight. Fog was rolling infrom all around us now, and it was the same glowing green as the headstone light. I tried to run, butI tripped and fell over a tree root protruding from the ground.

That’s when I saw it, a hole just big enough for someone Darren’s size to crawl through leading into the ground. Then I saw the wooden tombstone: Here lies Darren Shaw. March 5 1786 September 30 1801. We will never forget.

Darren saw me looking at it. “Yes, that’s me. I was only fifteen when I died. You can’t do anything to stop a murderer from killing, especially if the murderer was your own father. Do you care to know the details, Dora? It was a seemingly normal night. My father came home and out of nowhere starting whipping me. My father always thought he was better than everyone,including his ownchild! He thought that just becausehe wasmy father and the preacher for the town church he could do anything he wanted. So he would whip me justto show me thathe was better than me.This wasn't anything new, mind you. He always had a temper and treated me badly, especially after Mother died. Well that night he wouldn't stop. No matter how much I begged and pleaded with him, he wouldn't stop. HE WOULDN'T STOP!!!!!! I told him that he was hurting me, and you know what he said, DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE SAID?!?!?”He was shouting now. I was scared. "He said 'Suck it up, kid, I'm not having a whimp for a child!' He wouldn't stop. Hecontinued. I blackedout and the next thing I know, I'm dead. Stuck in this heckhole! I voweged to get back at people like him, no matter what the cost. So guess what, Dora, your turn." He let out a sickeninglaugh that made my stomach churn.

All of a sudden, hands were popping out from the ground around us. Dirty, decomposed hands, and those decomposed hands where attached to decomposed bodies. Some of the bodies where missing a hand or a foot orin one case, a head.I couldn’t hold it in any longer, I screamed.

“No reason to scream, Dora. My friends and I are just going to teach you a lesson. See that hole over there,” he pointed to a freshly dug grave, “that’s yours.”

All of a sudden several pair of hands was holding me up and were carrying me closer and closer to the dark, dankgrave.

“No! Let go of me!!!!” I screamed again and one of the zombies covered my mouth with his foul-smelling hand.

They lowered me down into hole and then they started throwing dirt on me.Cold, rain smelling dirt.They were burying me alive!!!!

“Noooo!!!” I screamed. I could tell I was starting to use up all the air, and I was now breathing in dirt. Brown, smelly dirt that clogged my nose and mouth as I gasped for the almostnon-existant air. I was blacking out. It had to be the end, I knew it was. There was no way I would be able to live through this. I would soon be dead. I took my final breath, cherishing being alive for the last few seconds of my life.

I woke up in a deep sweat.
“It was just a dream!!!” I was breathing heavily by now.
When I turned over, though,I saw his face through my bedroom window. He was smirking and I heard him say “Remember, Dora, next time we won’t be so kind.”
The next day at school I found out that Darren had “transferred” out of the district. His headstone was in the graveyard, though --I looked.

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