Dead-Eyed Lucy


I never got along with my family. My older brother, my younger sister, and my parents, always had a thing of their own, I could never get in. Nor did I want. They would laugh at minor stuff, like normal people, and I would just stare at them, blankly. Not that I didn’t understand their jokes, I did, they just seemed too stupid for me to laugh of. Or maybe it was because my family was the one to tell them. I could never quite understand, and I really didn’t care.

“Caroline! It’s time, where are you? We have to go.” That day, we were moving. Dad had just got a new job offer, you know? The usual. I didn’t want to go though. I could hear my mother calling me from down stairs, but I didn’t want to leave right away. I was in my soon to be ex-bedroom, leaning against the wall, just looking at the walls, when I felt my phone vibrating.

“So, u’re really going hum? :(” It was a text from Kate, my best friend.

“Yeah… Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want it either. It sucks…”

“Gosh… :(( Well, I’m gonna miss u gurl!

“Yeah, I wont. I’m gonna get myself a new bf, that isn’t so obsessed with TS.” I answered, with a smirk.

“Pls, miss ‘I-faint-everytime-Jonnhy-Deep-appeares’.”

“But you still love me.”

“Always will, always have. BTW, gtg, some of us have to attend SCHOOL, YA KNOW?!”

“Yeah, yeah, bye, you little bitch xp”

“LOL, bye.”

In that moment, while I was putting my phone back, inside my pocket, my brother opened the door, and looked at me with the usually disgust expression he used to do whenever he saw me.

“What are you, deaf? Didn’t you hear mom calling you?”

“I’m going, stop annoying me.” I answered, rolling my eyes

“No, I won’t stop annoying you, we have to go, now, and I don’t care if you have stuff to do, you should have done it already. Now go! In front of me!”

I didn’t move, I just kept looking at the ground. As long as he stood there, I wasn’t going to move. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of me obeying him. Angry, he entered the room, and grabbed my arm.

“Hey, who do think you are, LET ME GO!” I said angry while he pushed me.

He didn’t say anything, and just kept pushing me, forcing me to go downstairs with him, and only stopped in front of my mother. My mother turned, and looked at us, angry. He then let go of my arm that was red from the struggle.

“Caroline, where were you?! I’ve been looking for you all over the house!”

“She was in her bedroom.” Said my brother with a smirk.

“Bedroom?! With all of these thing to get to the car, and you were in your bedroom?!” Her face turned red as a tomato, and I would probably be afraid to get slapped by saying anything, if I cared. I just rolled my eyes.

“See mom, that’s the thing, she didn’t want to work. As if you didn’t know her already.” I looked at my brother with rage filling my chest. 18 years old, and he was still a dick to me.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that in the new house. You better start doing things around the house, young lady! Or there are going to be a lot of punishments for you. Because if you think you’re going…”

I rolled my eyes again, turned, grabbed a box, and started going to the car. I could still hear my mom from the door, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I got to the car and dropped the box on the front seat. My dad was standing right next to me, and saw me do so, giving him reasons to talk.

“Hey, what the hell was that? Be careful.”

I sighed and mumbled a cold “Sorry”. He looked at me, as if that made him angrier.

“Yeah ‘Sorry.’ ‘Sorry’s’ don’t pay for broken things, and if you break anything, you can bet your sweet ass you’re going to pay for it.”

I rolled my eyes again and turned my back to him, going towards the house to grab another box. If you’re wondering why I sighed and rolled my eyes over and over again, it was because I couldn’t grab a knife and stab the living shit out of them. That would be a crime, and I could get caught, and then go to prison. Nope, I was fine just rolling my eyes. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. Sometimes, we did manage to have fun, the five of us. Of course that that would last a little amount of time, but they did happen. When I got to the house, I saw my mom and my brother ready to leave, each one with their bags. I stood in front of my mother, and asked her if it wasn’t anything left to bring. She looked at me, with her eyebrows frowned.

“Oh, now you worry? Don’t bother; everything is already in the car, not thanks to you, though.”

“Great.” I said, coldly, and turned, walking to the car, and seating in my seat.


We got to the new house at around 19 o’clock, so, while the family un-packed the most we could, my mom occupied her time making dinner. She was fast, however, and dinner was ready at 19:30 pm. I set the table, and when she got to the kitchen she told me to go get my sister, Lily, that was playing in the backyard.

“Lily! Time for dinner! Where are you?” Our new backyard was big, but I could not see my sister. I could hear her, but I couldn’t see her. I started to get worried. Where could she be? I started to follow her voice, and eventually walked around the house, finding her in the front yard. She was talking to a light-blonde teenage girl, way much older than her that I didn’t know. Worried, I call her out.

“Lily?” Both of the girls turned their looks, but the way that the older girl looked at me creped me out. While Lily turned, smiling at me, the other girl raised her look slowly, as if I had just made a big mistake. I froze in the moment she faced me. Her face was hideous. She was white pale and had her right cheek badly stitched; the blue right eye was the only one that moved: her left eye, that was green, didn’t move, and it almost seem dead, like the eye of a dead person. Her left wrist, as well as her left ankle and right knee, had the same type of lacing as the one of the cheek. Lily came to me, and the blonde girl started to walk backwards, still looking at me, until she turned and started running. I grabbed my sister and watched speechless and scared as the other girl ran. I noticed her clothes: a light-pink tight shirt and white sport shorts, that I could swear that had stains of blood. Also, she was barefoot, running through the street like that. I saw, still scared, as she turned into a dark alley and disappeared out of my sight, right after she stopped running and looked at me and my sister for a while. Who the hell was her? Why was a girl with blood on her clothes talking with my 6 year-old sister?

“MOM, DAD, THERE WAS A STRANGER TALKING TO LILY!” I said, breathless, when I got inside the house again.

“What?” They asked, worried.


By then, both of them were looking at me like I was crazy. My mom looked at me with her eyebrows frowned, and my dad had a presumptuous smile on his face.

“Oh, let me guess, she had several cuts and a mega-gun. Oh, and a cigarette on her mouth as well, which she used to burn your sister.”

My mom started laughing, and my dad laughed with her.

“What? Look, I’m not kidding you guys, she was creepy, you got to call the cops on her!” I said, confused, and worried.

“Oh, please Caroline. You’re watching too many horror movies, stop wasting our time with your stuff. Now, is the table set?” Said my mom, frustrated, looking at me. In that moment my face darkened. They wouldn’t going to believe me, no matter how hard I tried, and I knew that, if I pushed it even more, they would snap, and probably punish me.

“Yeah. But I’m not hungry.” I said, before turning, and went to my bedroom, upstairs.


The next day was the first day of Summer vacations. It was mid-day, and I still haven’t left bed. Not because I was sleeping, no way, I had been up for hours. I just didn’t feel like leaving the bed. I was thinking about my former house, and how must I missed it.

My brother entered my bedroom, and even though he didn’t come in, he poked his head inside the room.

“What do you want?” I asked, rudely, taking one of my earbuds off.

“No need to be a bitch, I just wanted to ask if you had a pair of scissors I could borrow.” He said, calm, even though, kind of offended.

I sighed and got up, giving him the pair of scissors I had on my secretary. “Here” I said coldly. I could never be in a good mood when he was around. He would treat me like a child. Not that I was that old, but still…

“Look, I’m leaving. Mom and dad are at work, so, ya know… Do something productive then just being lying in bed with…”

“LE-A-VE!” I shouted, completely tired of him. He looked at me kind of mad, but did as I said. I heard carefully as he ran downstairs, and closed the front door, that basically made a huge noise that sounded through the house, because it was the only way to close it. “Finally…” I sighed, feeling now completely free, and then lied in bed again, putting my earbuds back in.

After 3 hours of doing nothing, I decided that it was time for a bath. Not that I really needed, I just didn’t have anything more to do, and I was starting to get real bored. So I entered the bathroom, locked the door (not that anybody would come in, it was just a thing that I was used to do), took my clothes off, and filled the tub. I had plans to stay in there until the water started to get cold. So I entered and leaned, mentally preparing myself to relax. I had been in the tub for around 10 minutes when I heard the front door opening and closing, making all the noise it used to make. It was probably my brother or my mother, that had forgotten about something, and had returned, because, knowing them like I did, I knew that they would only come back at night. But that thought started to slip my mind when I started to hear low sounds coming from downstairs, where the hall, the kitchen, and the living room were. It almost seemed like someone didn’t want to make any noise. And besides, they had been in there for way too long, so, it wasn’t anyone of my family. Until that moment, I was, and I still should have been, alone at home. I felt my heart racing. The sounds, even though low, were still perceptible, and I could hear every move it made. And it had started to come up stairs. One step… Two steps… Three steps… Slowly, clearly, I could hear its feet climbing one step at a time the wooden stairs. I still hoped it was my mother, or my brother, but I didn’t believe so. I looked around in panic. I felt extremely vulnerable. I was naked, in the bathroom, and my only protection was water, which I could throw to my attacker, but no way in hell that was going to prevent me from being killed. The steps went silent, and I stopped breathing. It was already upstairs. I heard it walking the second floor, slowly, coming and leaving, and I could guess that it was looking from bedroom to bedroom, looking for something, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that, even though it could not have been me, it would still harm me if it found me. I stayed as quiet as I could. I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want to make a sound. From what I heard, it had already checked all bedrooms. That only meant that was just one more room to check: The bathroom. I heard its footsteps getting closer. By that time, I wasn’t even breathing anymore, I couldn’t, it was too dangerous. The steps stopped in front of the bathroom door, and I could see the door handle slowly starting to turn, making almost no sound. I hold my breath, and for the five seconds that the door handle turned, time seemed to froze, and those five seconds looked like five hours. When it turned all the way around, however, the door didn’t move, and a sense of relief and victory started to fill my spirit for a second. I had locked the door, there was no way that it could enter. Whoever was behind the door started to shake it, as in a hopeless move to open it. But it didn’t move. Then, suddenly, it started shaking the door violently, making an awful angry grown, follow by what it seemed a kick in the door. I, even though I was safe, couldn’t help to feel scared, and I knew that I was shaking with every single piece of my body. After the kick, the door stood quiet, and so did I as I heard whoever that was on the other side, quickly running down stairs, making loud noises, and closing the door, with an enormous strength.

I still didn’t move. What if that thing hadn’t left? What if it was still there, hiding? I waited, for around a minute or two, listening closely, but I couldn’t hear anything. So I got out of the tub and grabbed a towel, covering myself with it. I was still shaking, and when I saw myself on the mirror, I was pale as the white walls, but that didn’t surprise me. I unlocked the door, slowly, and felt like I was giving away my position when it made that loud un-locking sound, that I had only noticed until that moment. Panicking, I closed the door, and put my hand on it, even though I didn’t lock it again. I waited one more minute, and then opened the door, because I haven’t heard anything. I went to my bedroom, still kind of shaking, and sat on the bed. It almost seemed un-real. Everything was just the same. But it had happened, and I remembered every moment of it.


The next two weeks were mixed between fear and forgotten. At the beginning, I was still scared at everything that moved, at every sound I heard, not that I really moved pass that, I just understood that that thing had never returned since that day. Maybe it had lost interest, on whatever it was interested in. I thought about telling my parents, but after what had happened with my sister and that blonde girl, they would never believe me. So I shut my mouth.

Oh yeah… That girl…

That night, me and the rest of my family were having dinner, and, as usual, we were watching television while at it. I wasn’t paying much attention to it, I was just concentrated on eating and thinking. But I was tired of thinking, so I looked at the television, and joined the family activity.

“Today it’s the anniversary in which Lucy Stevenson disappeared, a year ago, kidnapped from her boyfriend’s house, at night. The whereabouts of the kidnapers was never found, as long as the body of 16 year-old Lucy. Her boyfriend, John Adams, and his family, his sister, Emily, and his parents, Lisa and Gerald, were found, three months later, brutally murdered in their home. Lucy’s mother was also found murdered in her own bathroom, not long after the Adam’s. Lucy’s father, the main officer on his daughter’s case, was found by the police cleaning his wife’s corpse and the bloody bathroom. He was later interrogated by the police, and due to his allegations that it had been Lucy who had killed her mother, was sent to a mental hospital. Lucy was presumed dead after the testimony of the boyfriend that admitted to the police having seen Lucy being murdered.”

I looked at the television stunned. On the screen appeared a picture of a girl, with pale-blonde hair and blue eyes, smiling, like she probably used to do. I started shaking again. That girl… She was the exact same girl that was talking to my sister two weeks ago. Even though now she didn’t seem like a human anymore, I could recognize her face. I tried with all of my strength to stay calm, so no one would notice, but I could feel my heart racing again, and my color fading. But no one did seem to notice, and even if they did, they probably didn’t care enough to ask.

The next day I woke up at 10 am. I had some research to do, and I couldn’t waste any time. After lunch, I went to the office and felt somehow more relaxed. The office was basically made out of windows: It wasn’t big, but it had a big window, that let a lot of natural light come in, and had a full glass door, with wood decorating it. I sat in front of the computer, put my earbuds to listen to music, and turned it on. It was fast, and in 30 seconds, I was already searching what I wanted: Lucy Stevenson.

There wasn’t that much of information about her that I hadn’t heard already on the television. She was a teenager, that had spent the first week of summer with her boyfriend. She had then been kidnapped, in the middle of the night, while John and Emily were asleep. John’s parent’s were on Hawaii, on their second honeymoon. For what I could read, John had said:

John: “I… I saw her get killed…”

Officer: “What do you mean?”

And that’s when he collapsed. “I… Oh my god… No, please don’t make me.”

According to the news, he and his sister showed clear symptoms of PTSD, but, before the police could know more information, they had been murdered, and Lucy’s father, Edward “Eddie” Stevenson, was considered the prime suspect, by the motive of anger and blame, on them and himself. When he was found and arrested, he started to say that it had been Lucy, that she was alive, with one missing eye and with bloody clothes. He then showed a voice-mail from his wife, saying that exact same thing, but the police ignored it, saying that the wife was traumatized, and wanted to believe that her daughter was there, so she had made that up, and when Eddie got home and realized, he killed his wife in a rage attack. However, forensics showed that Sarah Stevenson had been murdered between 4-5 am, and Eddie had only got home at 8 am, with witnesses on his side. But, on the other hand, it couldn’t also have been Lucy, because, due to John and Emily’s reports, she had been murdered. Sarah, John, Emily, Lisa and Gerald had all been stabbed to death, and their heads separated from their bodies, at least. The case, due to incoherent evidences, was archived.

Hundreds of thoughts passed throw my mind, but one thing I was sure of: That girl from that day, was, indeed, Lucy Stevenson. I stand away from the secretary with my swivel chair, and started to roll, like little kids do to have fun, but I only did it to think. And I was thinking so much that I almost missed it. I stopped the chair immediately when I saw a shape in the door, and looked, scared to what it could be, while I quickly took my earbuds off with a single move. Looking at me, following me with her blue eye, was the pale-blonde girl, Lucy. Her clothes, just like on the other day, were bloody. She just stood there, staring at me, doing nothing, and I froze in fear, starting to face my death. We stayed like that for a good ten seconds, and then, she just turned, and left. In that moment, I heard the door opening, followed my by brother’s voice, saying that he had gotten home.

A moment of relief filled me, and I ran downstairs, to meet my brother.

“Liam!” I said with a smile.

He looked at me with his eyebrows frowned


“I’m just glad you’re home.”


That night I wasn’t being able to sleep. I was just thinking about Lucy, and her story. How come she hadn’t been caught yet? She wasn’t exactly discreet…

I looked to my phone, frustrated. 3 am. I needed to sleep, it was getting late, and in the next day, I would have to get up early. I rolled in bed one more time, and then, 10 seconds later, I started to hear noises coming from downstairs. And just like that, I was alert again. Could it be her? The noises disappeared as fast as they appeared, and, after 10 minutes of paying attention to silence, I figured that I was starting to hear things. So I closed my eyes and started on working on falling asleep again, but just like that, I heard another noise. This time, it was long and slow, and it came from my bedroom. The door handle started to turn, slow and gently, as if whoever wanted to come in didn’t want to make any noise at all. It came in, and closed the door with the same kindness and slowness that had opened with. I froze in fear. I wanted to belie that it was my mother, or my dad, or even Lily, but I knew better. I thought that the doors were locked, and that she couldn’t come in, but now that I thought about it, she had never left. She had probably been hidden in the basement, or somewhere dark, so no one would see her, and waited for her time to attack.

I didn’t dare to move. I wanted to look like I was asleep, maybe that way, she wouldn’t kill me, and maybe she would leave. But I was lying to myself, and I knew it, even though I still wasn’t going to move. She, however, didn’t do anything. I could see her figure, from the moon light that came in from the window and due to the mirror that was next to my bed. She was just standing there, at the end of my bed, motionless. She stood like that, staring, for 10 minutes that were of pure horror and mentally insane for me, but I still didn’t move. Then, I felt something on my mattress. From the mirror, I could see that she had placed her knee on my bed, and was starting to climb to bed. She crawled until she was next to me and then put her face closer to mine, leaving us with only a finger apart. Even though I couldn’t see her, I could feel her right there, with her face in front of mine, looking at me. In that moment, I just felt like crying, but I kept my immobility. After five minutes of that, she finally backed away, and right after she did so, she crawled to the end of the bed, again, and sat next to my feet. From that angle, I couldn’t see her, and I still had no intentions of moving. And then I heard a small, fainted laugh, coming from her. That’s when I felt a horrible pain on my ankle. I screamed, and twisted in pain, but Lucy’s reaction was to laugh lauder and to stab me on my hip, and then twice again my arm. And just like that, my arm was chopped off. I realized that she had a butcher’s knife. That’s how she had been able to dismember the others, like she was about to do me.

I felt another horrifying pain on my belly, and then other on my leg. Why wasn’t my family coming to help? The thought of them being already dead started to fill my mind. How could she had killed them so silently? She looked like a kid playing ‘Whac-A-Mole’, just randomly stabbing my body everywhere, and laughing like a mad person while she was at it. She stabbed me on my neck, and I scream on more time. Except, that, this time, she placed her hand on my mouth, and said, quietly, with a long smile on her face, that I could only see because of the moonlight that came from the window:

“Be quiet… We’re having fun, aren’t we?”

Original Author:

8 Comments on 'Dead-Eyed Lucy'

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  • Commented on May 22, 2016 at 10:44 am

    The story is plagued with clichés and unneeded plot – back story is good but I struggled with getting past the moving houses bit. There was no built up tension until at least halfway, and it didn’t pay off – I was rolling my eyes at your ‘creature’. Aside from that you need to check your work for mistakes and organize the plot so it doesn’t cone off as a crumpled mess.
    “and then twice again my arm. And just like that, my arm was chopped off.”
    This had me in tears though. Lol.

  • Commented on May 22, 2016 at 5:43 pm

    I submited this a year ago, I completly forgot about it until I got an e-mail this morning, saying that it had been approved, lol. I’m not surprised that is full of mistakes, it was one of my first works.
    Ah, lol

  • Commented on May 22, 2016 at 2:45 am

    19:30 pm? You are already using 24 hour time, you do not need the pm. We already know. That is just one of the many mistakes this story is riddled with. You really need to proofread your work. The way it was written was terrible, the plot was a mess and it was completely unrealistic. You do not get brutally murdered and then think “Wait, she looks like she is playing whack a mole”. and then she got stabbed in the neck and was somehow still alive… What the actual fuck? She would have at least tried to call the police, you do not see a random girl in your house and think “whatever, fuck everything I am a teenager la dee la dee da” Now I can see you put a lot of work into this story, but you really need to just read over what you wrote down and fix everything. Just because you worked hard on it does not always mean it is good

  • Commented on June 6, 2016 at 5:57 pm

    More fillers than Naruto.

  • Commented on May 30, 2016 at 4:49 pm

    this story looks a bit like fanfiction written by a 12 year old girl.

  • Commented on May 28, 2016 at 1:26 pm

    This story is very poor.. You have a lot of grammar and spelling errors, unnecessary words and unneeded fillers. It is a crumpled mess. All over the place with your story development, alot of irrelevant information. It was hard to read.

  • evalina
    Commented on May 27, 2016 at 4:14 pm

    Love <3

  • Commented on September 4, 2016 at 8:18 am

    Hey author I loved the plot and idea of the story but I believe the writing needs a lot of work. I would be incredibly honored if you would allow me to rewrite this story and maybe extend it you would of cour”se get credit you deserve being my inspiration and all pls get back to me (:

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