Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-27859657-20161212045731

i'm slowly remaking the kyoki story, and while i understand that creepypasta's are usually short stories, i'm sorry to say that making a story short is something im not good. and i understand the story mmight not sound creepy at first... i'm trying to rewrite the story first, then add some creepy elements later.

K Y O K I PART 1 ( REMAKE)

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… Words are a power to be reckoned with. If used the right way, you can pretty much use it to get anything you want. A double edged sword, so the Bible refers to the human tongue. But. What about using said power to get in the worst situation? What is the worst situation your mouth can get you in? A time out in the corner? Suspended from school? How about real jail time? Well, for me. It’s a mental asylum. Or mental hospital, if you refer to use that synonym more. It doesn’t matter really, after all there the same thing right? And if not, I dare you to correct me by explaining the difference. Now, don’t be alarmed. I’m not saying I’m still there, after all I left that place years ago. How many years has it been since then? Well let’s see. I’m 24 years old right now, and I found myself in that place when I was 16 years old, so I believe it’s been a good 8 years, almost a decade. Anyway I’m typing this to let you know what happened. Why? Well I’m kind of bored here. What if the police link this story to the computer I’m using? Well then so be it. I mean you did read the part about how my big mouth got me into a mental hospital right? I don’t care to be honest. I mean, I’m not regretting my actions, but I’m also not, not regretting my actions. Like my father usually tells me: “you don’t learn, do you?”. no I learn, I just don’t care. Whatever happens, I’ll deal with it, okay. I mean when do any of you care for anyone? When it’s convenient for you. Right? So, with that said let us begin…









       I had woken up with a bright light to my face. I mean not literally in my face. The room was just really bright. Sitting up, it was an all-white room. In this room was a wooden table, a wooden chair and a bed. There weren’t any covers on the bed, just sheets. It didn’t bother me that much. I mean, I’ve slept on a bed without covers, sheet and a pillow thus my step mother throwing all those items out the window, leaving me with a blue mattress. And this bed in this very room was practically the same thing, thus they were just nice enough to leave the sheets. I’ll just sleep in my cloths. Assuming that I’ll be sleeping here. There was also a small window. It was in a high place on the wall opposite to the door. I grazed the white walls with a simple touch, trying to get a feel for the texture. It was similar to the walls of a school hallway, blocks that looked as if they had been painted over with layers of white paint, or at least that’s how I would descried it. I wasn’t sure where I was. Where this was. I can’t recall as to what happened before, except the following event:







       It was the month of march. The whole school was doing testing. I had missed it because instead of going to third period for testing during first period. I went to third period like any normal day of school. When I went to the office I had to explain my situation. Which was hard for them to understand because I either talked too fast or just had terrible diction. But they did understand, Eventually. I was told to sit in the office to wait for third period to be over. It’s was quite a wait; I may had even fell asleep a few times. On purpose of course, but it was uncomfortable overall. Third period was almost over. Then a teacher walked by to exit the office through a door way beside me. So I told her: “I’ve considered killing my family”. The teacher uttered an “huh?” and I dared to repeat the same words. A moment of silence and then she left. Not even an “okay” to reply. It would be a load of bullshit if I said that those words just came out. I was planning on saying that to her. I don’t know why. Well I do





       partly. Part of why I did so was because I was under the impression that they wouldn’t do anything about it. The other part? Well, that’s a mystery to even myself. Maybe I wanted pity. Maybe I just wanted to speak my mind for a moment. Regardless of the reason, I was still called to the counselor’s office and frankly that surprised me. So anyway. My step mom was there as well. The situation was about the incident in the office. One thing led to another, they suggested that I get outside help That I didn’t really need but I agreed to it because I was simple curious. So we went to a place called Chris Children’s Hospital. The waiting room was boring and the wait was long as night fall came around. Finally, when it’s our turn they have me wait in another room labeled vessel 8. Hours passed, I lost track of time and eventually feel asleep on the floor after turning the lights off… And now. Here I am. In this white void called a room.  