Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24918301-20140508180623

A pasta i made for a very good friend of mine, most of the story's key parts are his idea 'w'

'''-The worst school trip- '''



As an everyday student, my hopes of escaping lessons were close to none, as our class never went anywhere, most of our weeks were filled with blank lessons and work experience. Not a single change has happened since then, until there was a mail in my school inbox, delivered by one of my main teachers.

It basically told us that we were going out on an excursion in three days, to one of the most top-guarded prisons in Belgium, which seemed kinda ironic to me since half of my classmates were weed addicts and sexaholics… (i don't even know if that's a word, but they still are) somehow I got the feeling that the teachers were mocking them. Fine by me, really.

Anyway, 3 days had passed and I had packed for today’s school trip. From the moment I left my house and said my farewells to my dear mother and father, sh*t began to get real bizarre.

Day program went as follows: first off we would go and learn the boring-ass history of how the prison got built and why. You know, the classic bullsh*t no one ever tries to remember on a school trip. Second, we would get an interview with a prisoner, sentenced to a lifetime in jail  for murder caught red-handed.

At any rate, midday broke out and we were headed to the B-01 top guarded cells. The guide told us beforehand that said prisoner had been very quiet and non-aggressive after his crime, but then again… criminals are always unpredictable… He also told us about the interesting story he was about to tell. He sounded indifferent and skeptical… which in fact could be expected from someone working day in, day out with prisoners.

<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">The prisoner, Michael Byrden,  <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">looked like he was around the end of his teen years or maybe just past 20. He was completely tied and bound and he looked a bit distant, as if he was still shocked from what he did, completely staring into the table standing before him. When we entered the room and sat down before him, his head clicked, as if he sprung awake.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Our group already thought he was a complete nutcase, but me and some others were actually intrigued by what he was going to tell us.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Here’s his story:

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">“24th of May, which was the day of my imprisoning. That night, I’ll never forget it”.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">I was supposed to meet up with some college students whom I called my friends once. There was some crazy-ass house party going on somewhere which we were invited to. So I decided to go there. Solely for the reason of getting seriously drunk that night because of all the pressure I’ve had at high school.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">After a few hours I was completely sh*tfaced, I vaguely remember leaving my drink on the doorstep to take a slash, and when I returned, my drink wasn’t stolen and the party could go on. I was completely stressless. Until I went home and -it- happened.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">I was just able to retain my footing towards home base, which was a real big task considering I was alone and it was the middle of the night. My head felt like it was going apesh*t. I kinda tried to ignore it and moved on.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When I turned into an alleyway (which I needed to take to get home again, it wasn’t some kind of shortcut) there was this little kid voice calling out to me. I knew I’ve had a few, but I was clear enough to think that 1:30 AM was not an appropriate time for children to be outside. But that was not my main reason for distress. How the hell did that kid know my name?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When I turned about I seriously thought I was going mad as hell. What I thought would be a young boy was actually a small blue canine creature, a fox, to be exact, walking on two legs.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">That was  the moment I realized that I probably got KO’d after having too much to drink and that I now locate myself into a deep REM sleep. If only that was the case…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">The creature looked friendly enough, one thing that seemed strange to me was that it’s right eye shined in a weird green way. the entirety of his eye was completely green, apart from its lens, which was still black.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">We talked for a bit, and it explained that it was looking for his parents, who were missing at the time. Considering that the situation seemed safe enough, and because I had nothing to lose. I decided to tag along and play babysitter for whatever best creature my dreams could come up with.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">A little further ahead we heard noises coming out of the adjacent  alleyway. when we turned around the corner, four of the same fox-creatures were in the same area, only, two of them dead, the other two alive, bloodstained.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">The little one clinged onto my leg, crying, his right-eye colour changed too, from friendly green, to distant, panicked yellow. It’s lens was constantly changing direction. Also, it couldn’t blink, which seemed weird to me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Considering that it was all just a dream, I grabbed onto a nearby pipe iron and went apesh*t on them, considering the two before me killed what looked like the little one’s parents. I didn’t have a choice, even though it was just a dream back then, it all felt way too real. There was this lingering sense of intimidation since the two criminals looked armed to the teeth.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">I dropped the pipe iron, and the little guy behind me fell into sorrow, his eye colour changing once more, from yellow to blue, yet still, it remained unblinking. As if the damn thing had a life of its own

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When I placed myself against the wall to regain my breath (which felt way too real as well). I took a moment to rethink where the hell my real self would be right now… At the time I still thought it was all a dream. Would I be in a hospital? Did one of my friends find me and brought me back home? I lost focus for just one moment, when the unthinkable would happen.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">The little fox, who kinda became my only friend in this goddamn void of dreams, disappeared into nothing. When I stood up again I heard an ominous giggle in the distance. I then realized it was going to be one of THOSE dreams.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">I started to wander deeper into the maze of alleyways. The town I used to know just transformed into a rat trap filled with small hallways which I have never seen before. Still believing that it was all just a dream, I wandered on.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When I came closer to what looked like a 4-way fork in the road, the little one appeared again, only, he was barely visible since he was about 30 metres away from me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">I called out to it, thinking I could really use some good company in the rest of this godforsaken dream of mine. When I did, he turned around. And swear to god I wished he never did.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">With each step he took, the more visible he became. What once was a cute fictive dreamlike creature was now a monstrosity. It’s right unblinking eye in the most bloodstained shade of red. It’s other eye.. was just an empty eye socket. It held a pointy, rusty kind of debris, kinda like he took it from a nearby junkyard. When he neared, he whispered something about taking revenge on the one who was too slow to act.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">The entire situation just looked way too real again. In a dream you move slowly and it’s never full-motion. Yet in this dream it felt like I was controlling my every movement, much like, I don’t know… real life. I started running, without even thinking rationally anymore, my brain just clicked, saying: “ this isn’t a f*cking dream anymore “

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When he started running behind me there was only one thing I could do, kill him first. That wasn’t easy for me to do considering I have a weak spot for animals. I could hear him chasing me, and he wasn’t far off.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">I cut off into random corners, vaguely thinking I could shake him off, until I banged on a dead end. I thought I was done for, but I took my chances. Inside of this alley was some kind of glass container and 2 dumpsters. I hid as  quickly as possible behind the glass container, equipping a shard of glass in the process.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When the little one entered my alleyway, it went completely quiet, apart from hearing a few footsteps coming nearer and nearer there was no sound at all, no hyperventilated breathing, no crazed laughter, just footsteps.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">From the moment I saw it’s shadow coming closer, I popped out of my hiding spot, knocking the rusty object out of its hands and I continued to stab him, over and over again, with tears in my eyes. That face of his will also be forever imprinted in my memory.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">I fell onto the ground after that, cried myself unconscious, since that little killer was the only one left in this f*cking void.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">And then I woke up, I witnessed my surroundings a bit. My soiree top from that evening was taken off, leaving me with only a t-shirt. but my clothes weren’t my biggest concern. The fact that I was behind bars was far more alarming.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When the guard came to pick me up to go to my designated court case, I could never comprehend what I did, or what I have been doing. I was probably here because of my drunkenness, so I tried not to worry

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When the court began I had no stamina left to think, the only thing worrying me was if any of this is real or not, the foxes, the killing, even the party where it all started, was any of that real too?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">The only thing I remember from the entire court case were these facts:

<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:-18.0pt; mso-list:l0level1lfo1"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-           <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Under influence of alcohol.

<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:-18.0pt; mso-list:l0level1lfo1"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-           <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Under influence of <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 10.5pt;line-height:115%;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial;background:white;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Hallucinogeen drugs, LSD to be exact. <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">

<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:-18.0pt; mso-list:l0level1lfo1"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-           <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Assisting members of streetgangs in the act of murder

<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:-18.0pt; mso-list:l0level1lfo1"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-           <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">The murder of 2 street gang members

<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:-18.0pt; mso-list:l0level1lfo1"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-           <span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">And the worst one yet: The murder of a 9 year old boy

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">And that’s the conclusion of why I’m sitting my time here, before I went to the party I carried not a single gram of drugs on me. Heck, I hated the very being of drugs. Until i realized that leaving my drink on the doorstep would be the big mistake, but then again, like the goddamn jury is going to believe that.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">And so we left.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">When he finished the story, the entire class (who were still half criminal themselves, they were innocent though, just addicts) turned completely quiet, as if feeling his sorrow in both the fictive story, and because of what happened afterwards.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Did he just cause a hoax to desperately think that the guards would believe him? But then again, that story was just way too complex to be invented in a matter of minutes…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">

<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height: 115%;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:"TimesNewRoman";mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language:EN-US">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:20.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Few disclaimers:

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:20.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Me, Stefan "ArcWave" Clarysse, the writer of this story, has never came in contact with any drugs of any kind, and I will continue to do so.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Also, I am not suffering from any mental condition whatsoever. My mother had me checked ’w’

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">This story is completely based on fictive material. Any references to real-life people or events are purely coincidental.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">Also, it's my first, i have a lot of experience in the writing of actual stories, but until today, i have no experience with writing creepypastas whatsoever. Constructive revision would be awesome.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US">ArcWave out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;mso-ansi-language: EN-US"> <ac_metadata title="The Worst School Trip"> </ac_metadata>