User:TaraSibling

My name is Tara. I won't tell you my last name due to confidential reasons. I have scrolled your internet, the first time I ever did. I was introduced to your creepypasta and your stories of Eyeless Jack. The man with the black hoody, blue mask, and as you say 'not of this world'. I have you know he is of this world and not at all a monster. He was driven and molded that way because of scarring and past.

I was his little sister, two years apart. He was a good brother and I loved him dearly. He would protect me from the neighborhood bullies and help me when first grader home-work just seemed too hard. We never really lived under sanatized conditions with my mother. My father had ran off when I was born because he didn't wish to handle the responsibilities of another child. The house was always dirty and it didn't matter if my brother and I cleaned it, it would always be ruined by my mother and her horrible friends who'd smoke, drink, and hang around her. They were bad influences. It would always be noisy at night so my brother took me outside to the backyard and we stayed in the shed with a few pillows and blankets. He would often read to me and sing until I went to sleep. My mother would usually yell at me until I would be in tears about how it was my fault that father had left and that I'd be better off dead. She would yell at my brother too, but that made me admire him more as a role model. He stood firm, not shouting back, but looking up at my mother with not a single tear in his eye. Even when she told him, he was worthless and that having kids put her through so much he still stood strong. My mother didn't like this very much and would often hit him for it. When I would be in tears, Jack would kneel down to my eye level and say that it wasn't my fault and that she did it to herself. I would then hug him tightly and cry even more.

We were finally taken out of that house when I was thirteen and Jack was sixteen due to the harsh treatment we had recieved and were taken in by foster parents. At first, they had seemed very nice. Their house was clean and they took good care of us. However, when it came to my brother they were more cold of him. Possibly because he didn't seem heaven-sent as their actual children. He always wore black, usually to hide in the shadows when mother would come. He did mention he didn't believe in God because he would have never put us through such situations if he did love us. This didn't help matters because they were highly religious people. They forced us to go and we would obey. Jack didn't have a problem with it and never once complained.

However when I turned fifthteen and he turned seventeen, things turned out for the worst when Jack and I walked downstairs after having playing some games when dinner was called. He went out first and all I could remember seeing in front of my eyes was my brother on the ground, holding his face. Steam had risen off through the gaps between his fingers as if somethign hot had been thrown on him. I looked inside the room to see the father with a bucket with the same amount of steam in it, looking as if he had splashed something on my brother. I went to run over to him to see if he was okay, but I was grabbed by the mother and one of their children. I struggled, wanting to be near my brother but the father looked at me. He undid the belt around his waist and snapped it, causing me to flinch. "God doesn't love non-believers. I will not have sinners in my house." He said, slowly making his way towards me. "We listen! We go to church with you! Please, don't!" I shouted over and over again. However, I looked up to see my brother right. His eyes had been melted shut by what ever was in that bucket and his face seemed as if it was rotting away slowly. He wrapped an arm around the father's neck to try and hold him back. "Leave her alone!" I could hear him shout, but the words were distorted from the horrible burns on his face. He was thrown off by one of the children and pushed. His head came into contact with the corner of a end table in the hall and he was knocked out cold.

The help came when neighbors had called 911 because they heard my screaming when the family beat me. Jack and I winded up at the hospital to recover our injuries. The burning liquid that was thrown on Jack was acid. They were trying to kill him saying that their was an evil lurking inside of him and they had to dispose of him, or that's what was told to the judge. He had his eyes removed, there was no saving them. All there was now were empty sockets and marks on his face. I only suffered a concussion and a few welts and bruises. We would be taken outside for some fresh air and Jack, despite his lack of eye sight focused on the woods behind the hospital, as if he was planning something. Jack and I were then told that we would be taken to a new foster home and they were sure they would be nice people. Jack gritted his teeth when this was brought up, but accepted it either way. When we were taken outside again, I held his hand to guide him through the back yard of the hospital, but he did something I didn't expect. He yanked and pulled me to follow him into the woods. He told me not to stop and to keep running. Jack seemed invincible, his bare feet not making any notice to pain from thorns and branches that came into contact. I would sometimes stumble due to his fast speed, but tried to keep up. When we were deep into the woods, we stopped. "I'm sorry Tara, but I'm not taking the chance of something even worse happening to us in another home."

I couldn't help but agree with him. Even with the feeling in my gut that told me to go back, I had to follow my brother. I didn't wish to leave him here all alone. Not when he had done much to help me. We would travel farther and deeper into these woods, now close to a mountain where no one could find us and set up our own home. There was a small neighborhood a few miles down so I would offer to do house work for a couple of dollars for food and anything else we needed. We had found a cave residing at the bottom of the mountain and made our home there. We even added a wooden plank for a door to shelter us from the wind. With some of the money that was bought, he bought some books in order to teach me a few more things that I wasn't able to learn due to my grade. He was a good teacher.

The next few weeks went by and my brother had been vomitting anything he ate. Any food that was given to him he would throw up. I tried everything I could to find food that would satisfy his stomach, but it would only end in failure when he would throw it up again. We stayed in our cave for a full year, with Jack turinging eighteen and myself turning sixteen. He would look at me, but with a different look. Not the loving way he did, bu one of hunger. Even though he couldn't see me, his gaze was pointed in my direction when I would come by.

I then realized his intentions now, when I woke up I saw Jack with something bloody in his hands. He was in the corner, eating whatever was in his hand. I had looked down and noticed that I had a huge gash right over where one of my kidneys would be, that was sewn up by a needle and some thick thread. I looked up at Jack and asked, "What happened?" He looked up at me, a bit saddened and responded, "I couldn't take it anymore. I'm sorry..." I blacked out after that was said, possibly due to blood loss. I woke up once again to find him rocking back and forth. It sounded like sobbing. "Tara, I'm sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me! I needed to eat and...I..." he then started to cry more.

I had walked up and hugged him tightly, to let him sob. I was not angry, but in fact, I understood. "You've sacrificed for me and now I sacrifice for you. I still love you my brother..." I said, to him. Two weeks later, I let him take my other kidney to eat. Despite the pain on my side, I did it all for him, to help him eat. I grew week the next few days, possibly due to both my kidneys missing. Jack was still hungry and would have to eat soon.

I had put on one of my brother's black hoodys and went into town into a costume store for a mask. I chose the first mask I saw, which was a blue one with eye holes so I was able to see. During one of my chores, I noticed a pocket knife sitting on one of the people's dresser while I was cleaning their room. I stole it and returned to Jack, who was a bit pale in the face. He hadn't eaten in days and all the snacks he had were worthless now. I told him I'd be back and headed off. I had to look for someoone, someone that was alone. There was one person, a man who was doing a jog down the road. I hid in the bushes, waiting to strike and I did. I threw him down on the ground and went to go stab his throat, but he pushed me off and went to run away from me. All that time in the woods and my strength had developed. I had chased after him again, but with a flailing of his hand I had dropped my pocket knife. I just tackled him and wrapped my hands around his neck to strangle any life that was in him. However, my plans had frozen when karma had hit and police showed up that were just surveying the area.

I had ran back into the woods with one of the cops trying to catch me. My mask had gotten stuck on one of the tree branches during my run and now my face was revealed. I then felt a sharp, electrical shock run through my back and I fell to the ground. It was one of the cop's tazer. I laid on the ground, twitching and convulsing until the shocks had stopped. The cop grabbed my hands and handcuffed me to the ground. "No! I can't go! Let me leave!" I cried, now realizing my fault. The cop just lifted me up off the ground and took me to his car giving me the big speech about having the right to remain silent, anything I say could be used against me. I shut my mouth afterwards. I didn't want them to go searching for Jack. However, when I got into the car I looked out and saw my brother standing in one of the bushes. His ears seemed to be pointing my direction of the cop car and of my screams to be let go. He seemed saddened. The mask I had originally worn was hung on a branch next to him as his face bumped into it. He grabbed it and began to feel it's shape. When he went to go look back up at me, the cop car had already been driving away. I was hoping he wouldn't go after me. I didn't want hi to get roped up into all this as well.

There was a trial for me and I was sentenced to prison for twelve years for attempted murder. Due to my young age, I did recieve a kidney transplant as a pity present. Looking back at my records they had felt sorry for me and thought that my background was the reason why I snapped. With no evidence of my brother, they suspected him off as dead. That I had killed him. I'd rather leave it that way. Not until now. Not when so many people have called Jack a heartless monster, when really he was only trying to survive. I didn't know why he thought the things he did or when he was hungry for human organs, but I know he's still the brother I still love. I still get letters to this day from him, with no return address. He still cares and he awaits my return. I'm happy he's still alive and that one day I will see him again, out of the prison walls and we can live as a family again.