Guise, im freakin out here! I looked under the categories of fan fic.....and they didn't have CreepyPasta kill me my life isnt worth living anymore this planet has gone to shit.
An Eye for an Eye
I’m not ordinary.
But that’s what every girl says when in reality, they’re just as normal as an apple on a fruit cart. I’m more of a hula hoop on a fruit cart. Loud, obnoxious and a big weirdo. I’m not going to describe each of my perfect flaws, or tell you the flavour of my cake at my second birthday party (strawberry, by the way.) But I will tell you my favourite flaw. My height. I can be spotted easily in a crowd because the girls here in Essex are short as Paula Deen on crack (and the fact that I don’t like my ass wavering out behind me helps, too.)
As for hobbies? I like anything that doesn’t involve sport, like; music and writing. That’s all, folks! I’m a big old softie for some Austen or De’Maure. And I’ll listen to anything that has a bass line (unless it’s BOTDF, sext, sext, sext me! ) and a great beat. But I honestly favour pop-punk and death-core. Otherwise known as; EMO, Scene and screamo. I have a Mother and a deadbeat step-father. I also have 6 brothers (again, I’m not a typical Essex girl) and two cats.
I don’t have a boyfriend, nor do I want one. Love doesn’t really exist. It’s an emotion created by the brain to comfort its human carrier. But it seems to be popular with the generation of today (Harry Styles will love me one day!) I’m pretty sure celebrities don’t need love, they have money. I would be happy with piles of money, rather than have eternal love with a boy. I’m a straight little muffin, so don’t get any ideas.
I do watch alot of T.V, mainly Snog, Marry Avoid. It’s amazing how many times they’ve visited Essex, mind you, we need it more than any other country on earth. Out clubs are littered with fake eye lashes and tubes of half finished lip gloss, and don’t get me started on the attire. My brothers like the clubs, I guess. They seem to like the whole prostitute look, but in reality, who doesn’t. My friends seem especially fold of the whole WOG look. On several occasions, they’ve tried to slap make-up mask on my face and call it beautiful.
I like SMA mostly for its ability to entertain. But I could even be classes as one of those wierdos that check into the show. But I am more conservative, and I wear what is typically known as ‘EMO and Scene’ clothing.
The fashion industry is a bunch of tossers.
As for work? I work at a candy store. It sounds insanely fun to most people, but our manager has one eye glued on us, so we can’t steal some jubes.
But the weirdest thing going on in Essex at the moment, is the various murders and missing people reports littered around the city. My house is out in the middle of nowhere, so I should be okay. But the scary thing, the most scary of them all, is that the sheriff died a week ago. People are pointing fingers in all kinds of directions. Mainly towards to butcher, because Sherriff Dandy had a most appealing smile carved deeply into his face. To most people this was found disturbing and unsettling. I was one of the few who saw it as art.
It’s not strange for me to say things like that, trust me. I scared half of the people into not talking to me because I wore black cloaks to school and muttered telletubbie names under my breath. Most guys thought it was hot that I was a proclaimed witch. I, personally, thought it was cool as fuck. I’m 19 years old at the moment. And I’m also being dragged out to a shitty club my my self acclaimed ‘friends.’ I don’t know why anyone would want to be friends with the EMO witch. Maybe, just maybe, underneath all the make-up, they are just another weirdo. If they were, they would have my eternal respect. But, seeing how they like BBCs (not the tv/radio station, trust me) too much, I think they’re just another Essex whore.
“Oh, come on, Gee! It’s just a little party! Why can’t you ever loosen up?” Heather asked. Heather is the leader of the Essex WOGS. I don’t know why she wants to drag me along with her on her meat hunt. “I don’t know, maybe I’m anti-social with purple hair? Not everyone wants to nail an EMO on a wall?” I earned an exhausted laugh from Haley, the bubbly Essex WOG that I favour the most. “I’m sure there are some hot looking wankers there that wanna give you a little bit of a ride on their dick. You’re not ugly, Gee.”
“Actually, that is what I’m classed as in this mighty land of Essex, By whores like yourself who don’t know the meaning of classiness.” Is what I was thinking. “Oh, come on Heather! I’m not half as pretty as you guys, you’re bound to have all the guys falling onto you! I don’t have a chance with them.” Is what I actually said. The room was filled with sickly ‘aww’s and grateful looks from heather. “Your mother taught you well! Honestly is the best policy, ey? Well, let’s get you dressed up into some sexy clothes, should we?!”
Hours later, music was blaring in my ears, and not good music. “ARE WE ALL IN THE MOOD TO PARTAY?! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!” How do these people do this constantly? I couldn’t stay here for an hour, even if I was offered a packet of jubes. “LET’S GET ALL THE SINGE LADIES UP ON THE STAGES, LET’S SEE SOME MEAT!” Repulsed. Absolutely repulsed. “Come on, Gee! Let’s get up the stage! You could get yourself a hot stud tonight!” Even more repulsed. Never been this fucked in the head at once. “Come on baby, go up!”
I honestly didn’t have a choice to weather I wanted to go up on the stage, I was literally dragged kicking and screaming up onto the stage. “OH, WE HAVE SOME LOOKERS TONIGHT! SHOW US SOME OF YOUR MOVES, LITTLE LADIES!” I am never leaving my house again, this earth has no hope. Everyone upon the stage started shaking their fat and moving like whores. “Come on! Move your body a little bit, give the men a preview!” Heather shouted at me. How did I even end up with these girls, I was so well kept before, with my studies of witchcraft.
As I started to do the jelly fish (a retarded dance I just made up), a scream was heard at the back of the club. Many screams dominoed their way up to the stage. I was the only girl upon the stage wise enough to pay close attention to the source of the screaming. “THAT’S RIGHT SCR-!” And all of a sudden, the music stopped.
Along with the Dj’s breathing.
Best ending ever, I know K
Well, enjoy my new creepypasta story.
Green Martians and thank you