User blog comment:ThisIsLucid/The ultimate horror and sadness/@comment-26030957-20170212204239

The Ultimate Horror and Sadness

I wrap this makeshift noose of tattered bed sheets around my neck, not for the incredible loss I've suffered or unjust accusations made against me. No, I go eagerly to death for a far deeper reason.

Let me explain.

In 2012 I was sentenced to life in prison for a crime I did not commit. It was a most heinous accusation, that led to me being brutally beaten and raped by the other inmates. When I wasn't dressed in a crude wig made of a mop, lips stained in cherry red Kool Aid powder, and forced to be the bitch of the Aryan Nation, I was locked in solitary confinement, where the tedious boredom drove me to such depths of madness that I yearned for human contact of any kind. Even if it was being forced to orally pleasure a gang of Nazi thugs.

A year into my sentence, I learned my wife had been in a car accident taking our five-year-old daughter to a ballet recital. She was hit head on by a drunk driver and my daughter, my little princess, my only beacon of light and purity in this dark hell, was dead. The image of her in her pink tutu, sprawled broken and bent on the bloody asphalt, her brains blooming in a mangled mess from her fractured skull, filled my mind. Horrible, horrible images which the gut resists with retching, but that the mind cannot stop from projecting.

Coupled with the traumatic head injuries and the devastating loss of our daughter, my wife found solace in a crack pipe and an empty bottle of Robotussin. Now she wanders the streets, offering up her body to anyone with a single spoonful of cough syrup. Other inmates come in telling me how they've taken advantage of her situation in most awful ways. There is a YouTube video of her felating a cockerspaniel for a hit off a dirty glass pipe.

But this was nothing compared to the horror of finding that JointBogart666 had left the Creepypasta community.

Though only known for two pastas ([Scary Skeletons Ate my Sister] and [Death Clown 2020]) I considered JointBogart666 the greatest of all the underground internet horror writers. His absence tore my heart asunder.

As I lay in my cell at night, the taunts and threats of skinheads echoing down the cold corridors, my mind would reel. Why? Why would JointBogart666 leave, without a word, like that?

Perhaps the standards were too high and he couldn't face the editorial demands?

Or maybe he grew tired of the snarky criticism of illiterate high-schoolers?

Could he have grown angry at seeing his work plagiarized on WattPad?

Or found some actual print magazines willing to pay him for his prose?

"What? What was the reason?" I'd shout over and over at the barren concrete walls that imprisoned me.

Finally it all grew too much, and I knew death was my only solace. My only release.

And so I wrap this noose around my head.

JointBogart666, if you are out there, if you read this, know I loved you. More than any father or husband can love his wife or child, more than any mortal man can love God or the angels above.

It's all for you, JointBogart666.

Goodbye, cruel world.