Chelsea’s Cry

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I laughed as I embraced my younger cousin, I hadn’t seen her in a month. She smiled at me and we went upstairs to her room to talk about how her first week of school was, it got dark quickly. See, my cousin, Mackenzie, was in seventh grade, the grade I had been brutally bullied in two years before- unfortunately Mackenzie faced the same fate. She started crying and I held her close to me, I hated to see my best friend like this. She looked up at me with her hazel eyes, I brushed the caramel strands of hair out of her face.

“Darling, you’ll be okay.” I smiled softly at her as she sat up. “So who is the one who started all of this?” she froze.

“Chelsea…I know what you’ll do if I tell you.”

“Tell. Me.” I was very protective.

“Her name is Shiann. She’s this redhead girl. It’s fine, really, I can handle it.” I stared at her knowing she didn’t want me in trouble.

“If she does anything to hurt you physically, you better tell me.” I stood up, my heavy, silver chain hitting my thigh. I went to the mirror to apply more eyeliner and straighten my short, brown hair. Glancing at Mackenzie I saw her looking down in shame. She was so innocent…

~~~

I entered the pin into the lock and rushed into the house, it was mid fall and the smell of dried leaves and must followed me into my cousin’s home.

“I’m here!” I shouted, waiting for a response that didn’t come. “Moe!” I called for our dog, a soft whining and scratching came from upstairs and I followed it. As I got to the top stair I felt something was wrong, very wrong. I rushed to the door and tried to open it. Locked.

“Mackenzie?!” I knocked frantically. “Mackenzie! Open the door!” I started to panic from the lack of response. In a state of adrenaline I kicked the door once, twice, three, four times before it slammed open. What I saw is still burned into my mind. An empty bottle of pills lay on the floor in a puddle of blood. I screamed. My best friend was sprawled out on the ground, her wrists slit and blood still dripping from the exposed wounds. I stared before rushing over to her, cradling her limp body in my arms and checking her pulse. Blood stained my camouflage corset and soaked my black gloves and skinny jeans. Going into a full out panic attack I started sobbing, choking, clawing at my face. This was not smart considering my nails are quite long, my face stretching upward and nails moving down, they caught on my lower eyelids. Suddenly blood trickled down my face after I felt six small pops and tears on my eyes. I had torn down my face, exposing the lower part of my black eyes in three slashes under each eye. The blood blurred my vision, it stung, I fell back in a panic before passing out from the pain.

When I came to, I calmly picked up my cousin’s phone, I scrolled through to the texts from Shiann.

“Meet me by the lake, I really want to talk c:” I sent the message and walked out of the room. The blood had finally stopped pouring from my face and I walked into the kitchen, slamming open drawers and cabinets looking for my new tools. I found a small paring knife, a torch lighter, and a kitchen knife. I shoved them into the sides of my leather boots and tied strips of fabric around my gloves. Before heading to the lake.

Just as I expected, Shiann was there. I approached with my head down.

“Hi.” I said, still looking down.

“Uhm. Where’s Mackenzie?” she sounded puzzled.

“Dead.” I looked up at her as she froze with fear at the sight of my face. “She was told to kill herself by some ginger bitch.” I stared into her eyes waiting.

“Oh my god..” reality hit her and she tried to run but I tackled her. My face stayed completely expressionless as she struggled under me, I punched her on the side of her face, knocking her out. I dragged her to a small tree and tied her hands and wrists to it using the strips of cloth.

“wakey wakey.” I lit the torch under her nose so she inhaled the flame.

She let out a blood curdling screech as the scent of burning flesh filled the musty air.

“No no none of that.” I shoved the last piece of cloth in her mouth as I took the torch away. I reached into my boot and pulled out the small paring knife, tracing it ever so lightly along her face teasingly. “You know there’s this story I love about a boy your age who was misunderstood, he just wanted to smile kind of like my best friend but he goes insane kind of like me. You should smile too.” She stared into my eyes in horror as the gag was removed and the blade of the knife pressed against the corner of her mouth. I place the palm of my free hand on the handle and started to slide the knife up her cheek. The skin tore and gushed blood as the tip of the blade grinded against her teeth. I moved over to the other side and repeated the process. See, by now I needed no gag due to the amount of blood pouring into her mouth and down her throat. Tears streamed down her face as she shook violently, eyes rolling back into her head. “Oh dear, better make sure those eyes stay open! Don’t want to miss anything!” I pulled her eyelid up by her eyelashes and in one quick slash, sliced it off. She gargled and threw up blood and vomit as I did the same to her other eyelid. Grabbing the lighter I light the flame and put it against the skin flaps where her eyelids were, burning her eyes and cauterizing the blood flow.

“Now aren’t you pretty.” I pulled out the kitchen knife, sliding in down her neck and down her chest lightly. Soon her shirt was cut open and I pressed the knife downat the bottom of her ribcage, tears rolled down my cheeks as the soft, tan flesh slowly split open under my blade, blood seeped and covered her whole abdomen. I looked down, she was near death, might as well have a little more fun… I grabbed hold of what I thought was her intestines, tugging them out and throwing them around her head like a scarf before wrapping it around her neck twice. I pulled. The soft organs started to tear as I choked her with them, just as she thrashed, gargled, and seized before going limp I heard sirens.

“Shit!” I picked up my tools and looked around panicked. Suddenly my wrist was yanked and I was being pulled. In front of me a tall figure in a white hoodie and black pants was sprinting.

“I like the smile but you’re an idiot, you fucking rookie!” a white face with a long, dark smile and enormous eyes stared back at me.

“Oh my god..” I smiled and kept pace with him, our feet pounding the ground, pummeling the dried leaves under us. Soon the sound of cops and hounds faded as night took over the forest. We are still running and still hunting.

My name is Chelsea, listen closely and you will hear my soft cries pierce the night.

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14 Comments on 'Chelsea’s Cry'

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  • Commented on December 30, 2014 at 2:33 pm

    I’ll try to be objective without patronizing or insulting, but the truth is BoneYeti and ECPH are pretty spot on. Adding the “other person” was unnecessary and pointless. The story reads like a revenge fantasy, not a creepypasta. It’s the sort of edgy writing commonly found in highschool essays that teachers are forced to wade through and give productive critique to when they know the whole point was to test the limits of how tolerant they’ll be with your violent imagery.

    This is not a creepypasta. I highly doubt it will ever be copied and pasted beyond the confines of this page, because it is not scary, it does not make us think, nor does it have any sort of “oh my gosh” factor to it that makes anybody want to share it.

    I urge you to try less for shock value in the future, as it is much more difficult to pull off effectively without looking like an angsty teen, and try more to build an atmosphere.

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  • Commented on December 29, 2014 at 6:32 pm

    The story had a good build up, but the climax seemed rushed and lazy. Painful for me to reach the end and realise that this was a love letter to Jeff the killer . In my personal opinion, Creepy Pastas are no place for Mary-Sues.

    I’m sending this plate back to the kitchen. 2/5

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  • Commented on May 15, 2015 at 3:59 pm

    hmmm ima do that to a girl I know just ganna put the first letters of her name amber M. your dead to me

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  • Commented on December 29, 2014 at 6:37 pm

    Truly redolent of a 9th grader who hates the world for no real reasons. Awful writing, ridiculous characters, and disturbing plot (not in a good way). What is even more disconcerting though is that this person seems to be advocating torture and murder. I’m glad to see you writing your fantasies out rather than acting on them though. Hopefully this is just cathartic for you and not something more. Hopefully you’re writing and storytelling improves as well.

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  • korinne
    Commented on May 5, 2016 at 9:41 pm

    love the fact that you added jeff into it

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  • Commented on June 9, 2015 at 9:11 pm

    Graphic. Me likey.

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  • Commented on September 18, 2015 at 9:23 pm

    I did like how you put Jeff in the picture. But your story was graphic and it had no real plot.

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  • Commented on November 8, 2016 at 7:36 am

    Jeff was unnecessary, and very much so. I liked how quickly she reacted to her best friends death. Who wouldn’t? Buy I needs a little more polishing and take out the ending.

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  • Commented on February 26, 2015 at 6:39 pm

    F*cking epic sh*t right here… Like how you brought Jeff into the pasta. So delicious!

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  • Commented on November 28, 2015 at 1:50 am

    I liked it and kinda feel like you should expand on it like 3 others have said there are some bad features bur all in all you did good. Oh and people who said this was not creepypasta but a revenge fanasty most creepypasta are all about revenge!! So it IS a creepypasta. Simple as that.

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  • Commented on December 22, 2015 at 6:19 am

    Sounds like some teenage revenge\Jeff fantasy. It has no scare factor, 3\5

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  • Commented on January 13, 2015 at 4:48 pm

    Not bad but not great

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  • Commented on March 30, 2015 at 8:30 pm

    cool, I liked it. It was really good.

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  • Chelsea
    Commented on December 25, 2014 at 2:19 am

    Thats awesome i would do that if someone bullied anyone in my family. I <3 creepypasta cant believe there was a story bout me

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