I try to hide myself. I stay hidden in your mind. I stay in your thoughts. And no matter how much you may try to get rid of me. I will never leave. I can't leave. Because there is no way out. Your sleep patterns may be a wreck and you will probably feel tired all the time. So go ahead, fall asleep. But you don't, because you know that when you close your eyes, you will just see me, although my form may differ from whatever you are afraid of. But I will be there. Promise.
Your thoughts are like my air. I live off them. They are what I use to make your life miserable. I will warp your pleasures into sorrow. Besides, you can't do anything about it because I'm in your head. I would love to see you try to get rid of me. I smile at the fear in your eyes. I laugh at your chattering teeth and quivering knees as you pace through a haunted house. I take pride in your fear, since I am the one who caused you such a fright. It is always good to be proud of your accomplishments. Wouldn't you agree?
I follow your every move. I inquire every step you take. Whether you are at school daydreaming, or you are walking, I watch you. Then I take notes and adjust your happy thoughts into terror. Creating fear is tough. It takes a lot of devotion and passion. Plus, having a terrifying gleam to your image helps. So I am a triple threat. And you will most certainly regret if you were to come face to face with me. So here is a tip. Don't even try.
Unfortunately, some people do try. Those are the people that wish that they could take back their mistakes. Normally they can, not Cynthia Green though. She's not longer with us anymore. Why? Because. She messed with me. And when you mess with. It's goodnight. Light's out. Forever.
Cynthia Green was a nice girl. She really was. So why did I let her go then? Well because. If you were nice all the time, you'd probably snap at someone once and a while. Correct? Yes. Sadly, she picked the wrong person to let out her anger. That person was me.
I had been looking for Cynthia's house all night. It was 3:30 in the morning as I wandered the streets of Toronto looking for 519 Ridge Landing road. 516, 521, too far. I stepped back one house and saw the rusty red bricks, solid oak door, and above the garage the number 519 was plated onto a block of brown wood is gold metal numbers. I walked through the brick wall and went up to Cynthia's room where she laid quietly. That's when she saw me.
" You. what are you doing here. Get out now! " Cynthia shrieked. Backing away slowly.
" That's now way to greet a friend? " I said sarcastically.
" You are not a friend, you are a monster! " Cynthia cried. Grabing the phone in her hand.
" Get out. " She said dialing 911.
" Cynthia, Cynthia" I said calmly.
" Don't you get it? The police can't protect you from me? I'm in your mind. I'm in your thoughts. You cannot get rid of me. " I said stepping closer to her face as my eyes turned from jet black to blood red.
" I can sure try! " She said as she dialed the phone.
I snapped my fingers and grabbed the phone from her hands. She screamed as loud as she could and ran over to me trying to pry the phone from my hands. I wouldn't let go. I couldn't let go. I laughed as she struggled. That's when it happened. Cynthia let go of the phone threw her hand down at her side, and slapped me square in the face. My eyes turned a neon green color and my hair came to life and I floated up off the ground in anger. I dropped the phone and Cynthia ran for it. Just before she could grab the phone, the lights flicked on and off and on and off, a blood curdling shriek came from Cynthia's room. The light's were out, and I left the house In full anger. Cynthia didn't wake up the next morning. Her light's went out and she was gone. Forever.
You're probably scared out of your mind right now. I would be too. I warned her though, she didn't listen to me. She had to go. Simple as that.
The only thing thing that remained on her desk was a letter from me. It read: Dear Parents, Yes she is dead, if that is your first question. No I did not kill her if that is your second question, she killed herself. She was afraid of me. She died of fright and shock. I couldn't do anything about it. Sorry. And no, you cannot contact me.
Your greatest Nightmare