It's You.

A story about 2:09 AM


1. 2:09 AM

Something had woken me up.

I stared at my clock, bleeping red in the darkness. 2:09 am. Well. I don't know what to do now, I appear to be wide awake and it's a weekend, after all. I could go on my phone, turn on my computer, see if any of my friends are up, or watch a show on Netflix. Yeah, those sound like good ideas.

That's when I noticed that I was in desperate need of the toilet.

I rolled over in my bed, and got up, my bare feet sinking into the cheap vintage carpet. I had got it when I was 12, and going through my Hipster phase. Ugh, just kill 12-year-old me. She was such a fool.

I took my phone with me on my journey to the bathroom, using it's electrical light to guide my way along the dark corridor. My room and my sister's are at opposite ends of the landing, the toilet is nearest hers.

A faint light was coming out from under her door when I came over. She must have trouble sleeping too. Probably watching a speedpaint of those grey people again.

She came in when I was on the toilet. She had this happy look on her face, which she always got when she was inspired.

"Hello there. Having trouble sleeping too?" She asked me, sitting on the washing basket.

"Yeah," I replied. "I woke up, you see."

"Ahh! Well, sis, do you know what I'M doing?"


"I'm watching a speedpaint. A real SPOOKY speedpaint."


"Well, bye! I have to finish watching my speedpaint. Should have loading by now..."

And she left.

Wow, that girl infuriates me sometimes. She just wonders around in a dream most of the time, and is usually locked in her room, on the internet. But I still love her.

I went back to my room after that. My computer was on when I entered the room. Strange, I don't remember turning it on before I left. The weird thing was, that it was only showing a white screen. Oh well. It's not doing any harm, and I may go on later. I'll leave it on for now.

I snuggled up in my bed, texting my friend in Britain about my day. After a while, we descended into a lull of laughs and pictures sent, the music blasting through my earbuds acting as the perfect backing tracks.

That is, until they suddenly cut out.

I took the earbuds out of my phone and re-inserted them, yet it made no noise. I checked if the volume was off, put it up to full, yet it made no noise. I tried everything, and eventually noticed something.

Nothing I was doing, all this tossing and turning, was making a single noise.

I whispered into the darkness, and heard nothing. My whispers turned into words, and they turned into tearful screams. Yet, all there was, was silence.

I hadn't turned around from the position I was in at this time. I was facing away from the computer and the door.

Then, I finally heard something.

It built up, first a tiny buzzing, metamorphasising into a meaningless whisper, finally becoming a full-blown shriek. I quickly covered my ears, curling into a little ball under my covers.

When I was sure it was finished, I slowly unfurled myself from my defensive pose and poked my head out of the covers. Yep, it was gone- for now. I didn't want something like that to ever happen to me again. Ever. At least I had gotten my hearing back. Phew.

And then, I head footsteps.

Slow, shuffling and deliberate, and that's not the worst. They were coming from my computer. Slowly, as to not distract whatever was there, I turned around.

I wish I hadn't.

There it was, the computer screen smashed into a million pieces, dark liquid all over the floor. The majority of the glass from the screen had embedded itself in it's body, that was the cause of the bleeding. It's face was twisted into the most unnatural of smiles, it's eyes glowing like the fires of hell it came from.

I screamed.

It was on me in a flash, leaping halfway across my room like a cat out for the kill. There it was, even taller up close, towering over me like a dark cloud, it's eyes boring into my very soul, my very heart.

"It's you..."

The knife flashed into my chest quicker than lightning, and those eyes became two white lights.

"I can't die. This is a present"



This isn't happening.

I can't see anything.

I'm choking on my own blood.


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