User blog comment:Witnessme/Creepypasta Short Story Contest/@comment-12186793-20151009175809

-The Clock That Killed Me-

I stared at the clock for hours, knowing that when midnight came, my wait would be over. That is when something, or nothing would happen. Either way, I could then leave this place. My friends were outside waiting for me to come out early. I had been here for a while, waiting for that damned clock they gave me to strike midnight. We all knew the legend about the abandoned house nearby. The old man that used to live here had allegedly killed his wife in this house at precisely midnight almost fifty years ago. They say that if you sit in the house and wait for 12 o'clock to roll around, the ghost of the man's wife will reveal herself. Someone supposedly sat here years ago and never came out. Nobody knows what happened. I told my friends the legend was nonsense and they dared me to sit in the house. I accepted, but secretly, I'm nervous.

The clock's hands came together on the twelve. At that moment, something jumped out at me. A loud shriek emitted from it and I became terrified. I attempted to get up and run, but I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I could barely catch my breath as I fell onto the floor. It was over.

My friends ran into the house, laughing.

"We fooled you! You can get up now. It was a prank. It's just a cuckoo clock."

I didn't get up. I watched as they tried to wake up my lifeless body. I was now the ghost in the abandoned house. I was now the legend. My so called friends will get what they deserve. I will show them the fear that I felt. I will show them what I am. They will see. They will pay.