Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25089042-20140623154000

    Mom pleaded with him. She thought he would be happy.

 Dad slapped her. He didn't want another child.

 She fell to the ground and sobbed.

 After he stormed out, Mom grasped me tight and wailed on my shoulder.

 I was too young to understand.

 A week later, Dad left Mom for another woman, leaving me and his unborn son fatherless.

 Six months after, tragedy. A miscarriage. A tiny coffin.

 For fifteen years, she kept me in the dark. She told me my father died in a freak car accident. She told me he loved me very much, and that I was the only child she ever had.

 And then, I found out the truth.





 ---

 "You fucking lied to me!" I screamed. My face was red hot, and my veins bulged underneath my skin. "Did you think I was stupid? That I wouldn't understand!"

     "I did it because I loved you!" Mom cried.

     "I hate you!"

    I stormed upstairs and locked myself in my room. My pillow muffled my screams of anger and frustration. For a while, I laid in my bed and cried.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">    Then, I stood up and turned on my PC. I opened my web browser. My hand wandered into my boxers as I logged into my favorite porn site.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">    Don't get me wrong. I wasn't addicted. I could quit any time I chose to. I just really needed this right now.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">    I was turned on before I even saw any action. The familiar color scheme of the site calmed me, somehow. I scanned through the site's catalogue of naked flesh and selected the video with the most views. Vaseline in hand and tissue within reach, I did the only thing I was good at.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">    In about fifteen minutes, I got what I wanted.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">    A wave of euphoria clenched then relaxed my muscles. I felt a massive weight lift from my shoulders. I turned off my computer and collapsed on my bed. My eye-lids grew heavy. Gravity doubled. I was sedated. In less than a minute, I was fast asleep.

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<p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align:center"> ---

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Jack...

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      I regained consciousness. My eyes were reluctant to open. I thought I heard something.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Jack...wake up...

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      In an instant, my eyes pried open. Something called out my name. Who? At this hour?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Jack, I have to show you something...

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">        I sat-up and scanned the room. No one. My skin nervously goosebumped. Where was the voice coming from?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Jack...I'm right here, it said, clearly calling from above.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Slowly, I looked up. Hovering above me was a pale, translucent figure, about the size of a football. Its ghostly tail flickered like a candle light. I squinted and took a good look at it. It immediately reminded me of Casper the ghost. But it was different in that its features were more...immature. Its eyes were huge, its cheeks were full, and its hands were tiny. The ghost resembled a new-born baby who neither smiled nor frowned.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Jack, the ghost called out my name as it floated down to the edge of my bed and then stared longingly into my eyes.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Initially, I was scared shitless. But I soon realized that this ghost meant me no harm.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      "How do you know my name?" I finally ask.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      How could I not? it said, smiling a bit. ''You're Jack. As long as I've known you, you've always been named Jack. ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      I wanted to say something, but I saw the ghost's lips open once more. I paused and let it speak.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">''      Mom would have named me Peter. I like that name. Peter. ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Peter gave a little sigh.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      ''You and mom would have raised me good. Mom would have cradled me in her arms to stop me from crying. She would sing me softly to sleep every night. When I would grow older, you would watch me from afar as I played in the park with my friends. I would love how the leaves would change colors, especially during autumn, when they would look like little, red butterflies that would flutter ever so slowly to the ground. ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">''      I would have done well in school. Grew taller than most of my classmates. Made a few friends. And also a few enemies...but they would have became my friends too, eventually. English would have been my favorite subject. I would have buried myself in books, and you would have scolded   me for being a million shades paler than you were.''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">''      I would have met a girl. Margaret. She was the most beautiful girl I never saw. I would have seen her in the library each day, and one day, when she would have read a book called Love Untold, I would have talked to her and eventually asked her out. We would have been so happy. I would always kiss the top of her head whenever I saw her, and she would always bury her face in my chest. Exactly eight years after I first met her, I would have went down on my knees and asked her to be my wife. We would have been the happiest people on Earth.''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">''      But before we could have children, Margaret would have died in car crash, killed by a drunk driver. I would have cried endlessly. I would have frequented bars and waste myself, ironically. The house would have been a calamity. ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">''      I would have considered suicide, but before I took the pills, I would see a little, red butterfly floating by. I would have been inspired to channel the pain I felt into words. I would have written a book entitled Red Chrysalis, which would have been about a man who falls in love with a woman, spends a lifetime with her,   only to wake up and realize that she was just a figment of an elaborate dream.''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      ''I would have hit the New York Times Best-Sellers list. My pain would have been felt by hundreds of thousands just like me, and I would have left the world peacefully, knowing that I, with Margaret, continued to live through the hearts of those who understood our life and our pain.''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Peter paused and looked at me intently. He expanded and contracted, as if angrily breathing. There was something about his eyes that struck a chord in me. Something in his eyes that was eerily familiar.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Holy shit.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      In that moment, I realized: Peter had my mother's eyes.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Peter, this ghostly apparition hovering on the edge of my bed, might very well be the ghost of my unborn baby brother. The hairs behind my neck threatened to uproot themselves. A massive shiver echoed through my body.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Jack, Peter wept, how ''could you do this to me? I would have been so many things...so many things...so many things...How could you have left me to die?''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      "I didn't even know you existed until a few hours ago!" I snapped. "Mom-"

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Mom has nothing to do with this! Peter ejaculated. ''You were responsible. You are my killer.''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      "How?!"

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Peter hovered and made his way to my door.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Come, he motioned. I have to show you something.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">     Peter phased through the door. I stood up, opened the door, and saw him beckoning me. I followed him. He led me to the outside of my house.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      It was around midnight. Stars decorated the sky, but a white-ish cloud was beginning to hover forth above me. Bit by bit, it slowly obscured my view of the sky.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">        I have to show you, Peter said. I have to show you what you've done.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      From the cloud above me descended another ghost, identical to Peter. It whizzed past my face, and yelled: I would have been Richard!

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Then, another. It screeched: I would have been Alexia!

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Then more. ''Robert! Kim! Sophie! George!''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Then a dozen more.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Then a hundred.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Then a hundred thousand.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Then, all at once, hundreds of millions of ghosts burst from the cloud, like arrows from an ancient Persian army. They swam like restless tadpoles in a pool of milky, midnight fog. The superorganism of ghosts filled the sky; they whizzed in groups and flew around like a massive flock of birds breaking formation.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Now, half a billion ghosts wailed and screeched, each exclaiming their names and the life they would have had.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Ashely would have been a cook and a single mom.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Darren would have broken a world record in the Olympics.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Jason would have overdosed on methamphetamine.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      There were virtually an infinite number of them, each with their own life story. Their numbers easily dwarfed the number of stars in the sky.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Suddenly, the ghosts all started to chant the same syllables, in a pattern. Their voices echoed on top of each other; I found it hard to make out the words but it was clearly in English. I recognized a mah sound, followed by a bay, then a kill. I listened hard.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Was it 'Mantra baying skill'?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Or 'Mantle baiting quills?'

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      I gasped. Was it...

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Mother's baby killed?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Was that it? What were they trying to tell me?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Peter flew next to my shoulder. He placed his plae lips directly to my ear. He whispered:

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Masturbation kills. <p align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align:center"> ---

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<p class="MsoNoSpacing">      Thank you for reading. This has been a creepypasta brought to you by the Young Christian Pro-chastity Association. Sponsored by the Roman Catholic Church.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> <p align="right" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align:right">''   “Then Judah said to Onan, ‘Lie with your brother’s wife and fulfill your duty to her as a brother-in-law to produce offspring for your brother.’ But Onan knew that the offspring would not be his; so whenever he lay with his brother’s wife he spilled his semen on the ground to keep from producing offspring for his brother. What he did was wicked in the Lord’s sight; so he put him to death also.” ''

<p align="right" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align:right">–Genesis 38:8-10

<ac_metadata title="Fatherless: A Creepypasta Sponsored by the Roman Catholic Church"> </ac_metadata>