User blog comment:Witnessme/Creepypasta Short Story Contest/@comment-25547916-20151010152655

Bad-Blood:

There’s a red stain on my ceiling and something foul in my blood. The stain on the ceiling had been there as long as I could remember, and I had tried to clean it with a damp cloth. I had forgotten about the cut on my thumb.

What a stupid mistake to make.

All in all, it’s hard to tell anything’s wrong; my blood looks like normal blood. It feels like normal blood. Hell, it even tastes like normal blood.

However, whenever I cut myself, the fluid leaks upwards and drifts to the sky above.

Sometimes, I swear I can detect it lifting my feet gently from the ground. Even when I’m standing upright, I can feel the blood settling in my head as though I hang upside down. My vision grows fuzzy sometimes because of this, and I have to lie down. I don’t go outside anymore, out of fear of falling up and away. Last night I woke up on the ceiling before I came crashing back to the bed.

I dream of bleeding myself dry, and sleeping soundly as a corpse. At the very least, I figure I could remain earthbound in my death. This morning, I make up my mind to rest in peace; It has to be done.

Beneath the old lynching tree, I slit my throat and stain the overhead leaves with my true colors. My weakening body slumps down to the comforting grass, and I watch my fluids drip up like backwards rain. As my consciousness withers away and I look up at the red leaves above, I wonder faintly which direction the leaves might fall in autumn.