User talk:Escaping

Markus:Too paranoid



(creepypasta)

Mark felt his nerves tingle up his spine. His black pupiled eyes enlarged at the sight of the world vanishing into clouds. His mom Anne beside him sat on her comfy brown plane chair with her headphones plugged in listening to the tv screen infront of her. Mark just stared out through his window paying no attention to his other surroundings. Mark felt too scared to look away. he had an extreme case of paranoia. To be specific he had paronoid personality disorder. He felt suspicion about what was behind him. he didnt want to turn back. He wanted to look outside at the clouds. The clouds weren't too suspicious out of most of his worries.. They were in fact, calming to him, though he'd never really seen anything that calms him often. He had a feeling his mother was hiding something from him. Some plan to kill him, or really anything. His thoughts were very grim. He felt way too scared thinking about it now once more, so he kept on looking at the clouds. The white soothing endless clouds.

The airplane speakers came on suddenly, startling poor Mark. "We are about to land. Please fasten your seatbelts. We are landing in New York. Our destination is here." The pilots explained. Mark felt releaved that they were coming back home. But still his disorder left him wondering. questions rushed through his head. All having to do with doubt. He then shivered at his thoughts. The airplane started going down into landing position. Something in his mind set off in fright after that "AHHH, WE'RE GOING DOWN!" he began crying at the thought of the airplane crashing to the ground and stranding them in a random place. "HELP ME!" Mark cried. He stumbled out of his seat, over his mom and into the bathroom. He looked around his surroundings and saw a comb someone had left on the sink. "KID WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!?!" A man yelled. "Mark please get out!" His mother questioned in the distance. Mark cried in a hunched position, rocking back and forth. He grabbed the comb and cracked it in half. "STOP THE PLANE! STOP THE PLANE!" Mark demanded. The plane finally landed and one of the assistants pryed open the door. "What is wrong with you?" The assistant whispered. Oh, the horrible fate mark took in life. He was born with paranoid personality disorder. He never liked the world. It always had a plan. It was always spinning around and heaven knows what made him worry about it. The way there were terrorists and deaths everyday. It was sickening. Secret societies and stalkers. It was too much for Mark's 15 year old scrawny brain. He even was afraid of himself. The way the brain thinks. He just couldn't imagine why. The mailbox outside his window was considered evil according to him. He had large bags under his eyes because he overthinked and was way too scared to sleep in the night. Insomnia developed and he developed depression along with it. His psychiatrists said it wont take long for him to get something else. Mark was too complicated in his thoughts to figure it all out. Mark's fate led to no where so far. Mark left the airplane station with his mom trembling and shaking violently. "Mom, I-I do-don't like pl-planes." Mark kept shaking violently. "Mark listen, you have to get this problem under control. You need to stop getting so scared. I love you too much." His mom worried. She hugged him and then walked him to his luggage station. "M-mom do you REALLY l-love me." Mark questioned. "Mark, you know i do!" He stopped looking at her for a second. He looked straight forward at the luggage conveyer belts. They moved slowly with random luggage passing on them. "Mom what if I fell on that b-belt and..." Mark was suddenly cut off by his mom. "Mark, stop thinking like that or it'll actually happen to you. Mark lets go get our luggage and go home, ok." She suggested. He agreed and helped her get their luggage. On their way home in a taxi Mark stood still. The lights and cars racing, and the buildings and street lights. It was too much. "Mark are you ok." His mom urged? A single tear drop dripped from his left eye. "Hunny, please say something. We're almost at New Jersey." Mark began to turn pale and his face covered in tears, his terrorized body not moving at all. No sound came out of his mouth.the taxi entered the Lincoln tunnel. That's when the world turned black for him. "MARK!?!" He had passed out. His heart didn't pump for a long time. He wasn't breathing. That was it. "Mrs.Martin, I'm sorry to tell you this" mark heard from a distance. Beep, beep, beep. He heard his heart rate in the room he was in. He couldn't speak at all and felt unconscious and but he could hear and breathe. "He has too many problems, he has paranoid personality disorder, anxiety, insomnia, depression, and your psychiatrist just sent me some papers and he has another bunch of new disorders." He heard a man say. "But it's not Mark's fault. I'm not going to let you take away my son and put him in an insane asylum or kill him." "Well I'm sorry but he is way too sick to be in society. Look at his new disorders. Just look at all 5 of them! schizophrenia, bulimia, ocd, adhd and bipolar." He then heard his mom whimper. "I can make a deal with you! I'll give you the money in my wallet right now and you can leave him alone!" The docter sighed "how much do you have?" Mark half conscious stumbled out of the hospital. His mom not saying a word. Mark's eyes were red. He was exhausted. His mom finally opened her mouth "Mark, are you ok." She asked. Mark looked at her crazily with a smirk on his face. " who the hell is Mark?" He answered. Mark kept on looking at her with his lifeless red irritated eyes. The hospital elevator clinged and opened up for them. Mark grinned at the sight. They stepped in the elevator as it closed its doors and went down. His mother began having regrets about her choice. They arrived home and she paid him the money that she didn't give the doctor. Mark's dad was standing outside with his 13 year old sister staring at him. She then swiftly turned her head to her dad as her blonde hair flowed in the air. She began whispering in his ear. Mark frowned. He yelled in fright and anger and then ran into his house in a rush crying. Inside he started laughing along with his sobs. "The fuck is wrong with m-me?!?" He questioned. His family entered. "Mark! Whats wrong with you!?!" His dad yelled. "I-I don't know!" He stood up and started pulling his hair. "I hate you dad! And your fucking shirt too!" After that his dad smacked him in the mouth. "Go to your room!" Mark stood in his room silent playing with people in his mind. "Good catch Tom. C-can you g-get the-the ball?" Mark's eyes began bulging even more. Blood began to drip out. "Ow Tom, you kn-know I hate fu-fucks like you!" He began swatting the air throwing himself on the floor screaming. He then remembered the plane food he ate earlier. He began to use His gag reflexes. As quick as 21 seconds he started vomiting out the food. He was a complete mess. Then he felt an urge all of a sudden. His schizophrenic friend the gave him a push. "What Tom.........oh, what a good idea..." And with that Mark reached for his drawer while taking out a hammer and a screwdriver...    Mark's dad Anthony was discussing putting Mark into an insane asylum with his wife and daughter when suddenly "DAD, AHHH! HELP ME!" Anthony sighed and told Anne and Dean to wait a second. He climbed up the clean wooden stairs. "Mark, I'm coming." He assured. After Anthony climbed the flight of wooden stairs he grabbed his key from his pocket and placed it in the door lock. He twisted it and opened the door. No-one was there. "Mark, stop playing" he yelled. "But dad, frankly I'm not the one who plays fairly..." Anthony felt a strike of nerves rush up his spine. His stomach began developing an unsettling feeling. "Mark, please come down here." He stuttered. Silence. Suddenly he felt something hit his head. "Mark, stop throwing things." Then he felt something inside his brain being pushed in, while a noise of metal banging filled the room. "Gaughk!" Anthony began wheezing. Looks like Mark dug the key a bit way too deep into his skull with his hammer. Anthony's mouth filled with sour, thick liquid. "They say silence is the key, so that's why i use it wizely." Anthony then felt a slight punch and heard a rip. Mark's screwdriver cut finely along the skin, flesh, veins, and heart. Anthony fell on the floor just like that after the punch, gasping for air like a fish. "Nonono, daddy, don't make a mess! You know I have ocd!" Mark grabbed a towel and panicked. He folded the towel and lay it in several cuts. Then he stuffed one in the mouth. Mark checked for a heartbeat and a pulse, and there was still one. "You know dad, it's better if I let you go speechless. It's the right thing to do. You do have a foul mouth. Just wait until the police arrive. You wont have much to say." With that Mark marched off with his dad laying on the ground brain dead. "Where is Anthony?" Anne wondered. "Deane wait here while I get your father." Anne urged. Deane agreed. Anne left the table while she climbed up the stairs. The stairs creaked slowly with every step. Anne's high heals tapped against the material. "Anthony, what are you doing laying in the floor like a wimp. Get up!" Suddenly Anne heard a voice. "Mom, dad fall and he's hurt! Get to the bathroom to get the first aid! quick!" She instantly knew it was Mark. She gasped and rushed to the bathroom and help Mark get the first aid. When she entered she saw Mark in the corner of the white patterned wall. "Mom! Get the first aid!" As his mom crouched down to reach the first aid by the bottom of the faucet. "THINK FAST!" Whack! Anne's head felt dizzy all of a sudden. "Mom, I think you know too much! You need to delete some memories!" Anne felt something touching her head in a soft way while feeling something separate. Mark's hammer and screwdriver, now covered in a couple of brain parts and blood, was done with it's job. Her half now opened head was scrambled like eggs. "Mom, I love you too much for you to die, so I'll leave you here until the police come! Now that you can keep your trap shut!" With that he left the bathroom with his mom sitting speechless on the floor of the white patterned bathroom, lucky that no blood drops were on the floor. "Deane, I need to tell you something." Mark yelled as he climbed down the stairs, hiding his hammer and screwdriver behind him. "I love you, and I've always shedded by blood for you! So now I need to ask. Would you do the same?" Deane smiled at Mark, making eye contact with his bleeding, bulging, red eyes. "Mark you know I would. If I could write the best selling novel in the world... I'd write it all about you! And I would give up writing if I could, so that you could be happy!" "Really?" He then stood next to her "Awwwwwww SHARDS!" His screwdriver dug into his sister's hands and broke the bone while he hammered her head. She then fell unconscious as he finished cutting off her right hand. She was a righty after all and she did say she would give up writing for him. "You know, you did say you would shed blood for me... So why not end your novel with..." He then ounced his hands with blood and wrote two words. "End it with The DENT!" Get it! The end, the dent! Hahaha!" He laughed at his terrible joke with such joy. He then cleaned up the crime scenes and his tools, hands, and tables. He then dialed 911. "911 what's your emergency?" "Hello, I am reporting a murder. Autumn ave house 178. I do not live in the area as I am traveling elsewhere, but I just noticed a family brutally murder one another. I'm not sure if they are half alive." "Thank you for calling 911 we will get there and see it for ourselves. Thank you."          1 month later, Anne, Anthony, and Deane came out of the hospital. Everyone but Deane were in wheel chairs. Anne and Anthony couldn't talk about the incident since both had major damage in the head. Deane needed a surgery on the head and got a hand transplant. "Mom I wonder, if we ever see Mark again. I miss him. He might of been psycho but he was a good brother. I'm never going to talk about him to anyone. Dad can't hear me. But mom I now you can. Right?" Anne shook her head weakly. As the ambulance drove to their home, something sparked in her head. She began to feel a tingle up her spine. A noise came from the back of the ambulance. "Silence is the key." She then jumped at the sight of two hands on the left window of the vehicle. Then she spotted two red bulging eyes and a cap. The skin on the face had bulging veins all over and a pale, almost greenish color accompanied by blood marks. Two shiny tools could be seen. A smile could be seen. "Don't you dare forget that sis.

Escaping (talk) 22:45, August 26, 2014 (UTC)Escaping