The Fourth Day

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"part of me prefers just thinking Links a dumbass. if i wanted to summon the apocalypse and destroy Hyrule id built a little fence around myself and theres not a god damn thing he can do about it" - Naomi
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 My attempt at a scary story.

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Zalty
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Posts : 3570
Friendliness : 3637
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Join date : 2010-12-08
Age : 23
Location : Arkansas, usually

PostSubject: My attempt at a scary story.   Sat Feb 12, 2011 7:21 pm

I once read in a Garfield comic that cats can stare down anything. I never took it seriously, always thinking it was a joke. I never realized how true it was.

First thing in the morning, my mom comes into my room and put her hand on my shoulder, "Wake up, sweety."

I moan and say "Alright," and she leaves the room. I remain in bed for a few more minutes, thinking of stuff, and then force myself to get up. I get my backpack ready, and get my clothes ready for a shower as usual, pausing briefly to look out my window. There were two cats out in the garden, staring at each other.

Now, I like cats, so you can't blame me for wanting to grab their attention. I knock at the window, and both of them simultaneously turned to look at me.

Even now I can't get those eyes out of my head. Yellow-green and piercing. I practically had a staring contest with them. For three minutes I just looked at them. Eventually I couldn't hold their gaze anymore and went back to getting ready, feeling a little bellow the weather. I finished readying my clothes and looked back outside. One of them was still looking at my window, and the other was looking away. I didn't hold its gaze, and instead headed straight for the shower.

After showering I grabbed my backpack and headed down for breakfast, not thinking about the cats. It was a cold winter day out with a chilled breeze blowing, but I'm a regular polar bear and went with only a thin jacket, as I usually would. Down to the black car with a picture of a leaping lion on its side.

Everyone piled into the car and we rolled out the driveway onto the road. Not ten seconds of driving later, a gray cat dashed across the road, forcing us to screech to a halt to let it pass. As it crossed, it looked at me, giving me a chilling feeling that I had felt as I looked at the other two cats, but hadn't noticed at the time. We continued driving, and the cat sat on the sidewalk, following me with its eyes. I suppressed a shudder and held the bag against myself.

We followed the winding road down the hill, and took a right down another road. A brown cat stared down at me, balanced precariously on top of a fence. I watched it as we drove past. I could swear those things were looking right into my eyes. Or my soul, even. I shook myself, telling myself that I was just being paranoid because of the cats in the yard this morning.

The road twists and turns down past a soccer field before evening out and joining with a larger one that leads right back up another hill. A white and black cat sits on the corner of street leading up the hill. It looks at me just like the others. I swear it's smiling at me.

We drive up the steep hill. Another cat, this one dark gray (I think. I don't remember this very clearly.), sat at the top of the hill, on the seat of a bike leaning against the house. It looks into my eyes and I look into it's black slits. I manage to tear my eyes away this time, but as soon as I do, my stomach drops, and it feels like the car suddenly slid all the way down the hill. I shut my eyes and hold my head. I hear my mom's voice, "What's the matter?"

My eyes open, and we're still at the top of the hill, now moving down the other side. Nobody seems to notice what I felt. I blink and make up an excuse, "I might be getting a headache."

Mom nodded and kept driving. I looked back at the cat on the bike and it stared back. It seemed angry... or maybe impatient. Its body didn't even twitch as its head turned to follow me.

I turned back to face forward as we head down the hill, over two speed bumps, past a retirement home and a park. The sun finally began to rise as we drove through a dirt road. I turned towards it to take my mind off of the cats- anything but those cats was good for me- but a long-haired yellowish cat walked across a roof, directly between me and the sun. I couldn't see its eyes, but I could feel them staring into mine. I tore my eyes away from it and shut them tightly. I could still see its silhouette, burned into my retina by the sunlight. But it was much too clear. The lines weren't blurred at all, almost as if I was looking straight at it in inverted colors.

I squeezed my eyes tighter, and I could have sworn that its eyes suddenly either opened or started glowing. They stared at me, and this time there was nothing I could do. I opened my eyes, but that silhouette was imprinted on my eyes. I looked out the window, trying desperately to get my mind off of it. I remember my eyes beginning to water, and me beginning to panic. As I raised my eyes over the edge of the window, my eyes directly meet the eyes of a calico.

I can't tear myself away. I follow its gaze until it disappears behind a bend.

We arrive at school and I leap from the car and trudge off towards the school much faster than I usually do. I look away from an orange cat and see that horrible glowing imprint in my vision again. I pick up my pace and eventually make it to my class out of breath.

I give halfhearted "hello"s to my classmates and numbly follow them to our first class of the day, Biology. I glance out the window and catch sight of a black cat. It tear myself away and dash to the bathroom. I lock myself in a booth and hold my head in my hands.

It's there again. The imprint. Its fiery eyes stare into mine. I grit my teeth and try to push the image away, but it keeps coming back. I open my eyes, but the image is still there, imprinted on the blue walls of the booth.

I slam my head against the wall and sparks dance before my eyes. But the cat is still there.

I lost track of time, and eventually I couldn't see anything but the cat staring at me. There's a knock at the door and I hear Michael's voice, "Are you alright?"

"No..." I croak, "Go away..."

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head, blind to everything but the cat, "Go away!" I kick the door.

I am dimly aware of his footsteps leaving the room. I'm alone again. Now I realize the lack of sound. Michael's voice had been a short comfort, but without it I realized that I had nothing to focus on anymore.

The eyes stare back.

A noise. I open my eyes. A gray cat stared at me from under the door.

I kicked at the cat and it vanished. It hadn't gone up in smoke or anything like that. It might have moved faster than I could see. I wrenched the door open and ran for it. I ran through the hallway, through the lobby, out the door, down the hill, across the street, along the sidewalk... I tripped over another cat, a white one with orange spots. It hissed and stared at me. I backed away and continued running.

Across the road, down another hill, along a long road, down a bigger hill. Another gray cat. Across the street, up the hill to the street I live on. Another orange cat. My stomach drops and I feel like I'm rolling down the hill again. I fall down onto my back, too dizzy to see straight. It leaped to my feet and run again. The image shows up against my eyelids.

Up, up, up the hill. Cross the street. Keep running. Up, up. Through the green doors. Black cat. Up the driveway, up the steps. I collapse against the door. Slowly, I open the door. Mom heard me and called out, "Who's that?"

"Me," I answer.

"Not feeling well?"

"Nnnh," I groan, drop my back and jacket, and dash for the computer. The screensaver showed the picture of a cat. I moved the mouse desperately and open an internet page. My fingers fly, and still do, across the keyboard as I type this out. My vision is going now. I cab only see the horrible eyes of that demonic cat staring into mine. Why am I writing ths? Who coud this help? What would you gain from reading ths?

I don't know.

I hear scratcjomg sp,omg frp, tje womdpw. bit O a, afraod tp look/ O', afraod tjat ot\s going to be another of those horrible things, staring right into my sould, and freezing it solid.

The scratching is too loud. I cant think anymore. What to dowhattodo? vgfrcn b ghyyyyyyyyyvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftvgftz

YUopui asrter l;opsdty asl;rterqwdfyu./ Rtuinm./ Ioty weopnm'\ty hjerl;p[./

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“Only after the last tree has been cut down,
Only after the last river has been poisoned,
Only after the last fish has been caught,
Only then will you realise that money cannot be eaten.”
-Cree Indian Prophecy

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My attempt at a scary story.
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