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The stick

This is the story of You.

I know what you're thinking: "A story about me, So cliché", but no, it's not about you, just about You. Not you as in the person who's reading or listening to this, but just about You.

You was a little boy and liked to collect sticks. One day he found a gigantic stick that looked like a hand next to a big stone covered with leaves and vines, so he picked the stick up and brought it home.

You knew that his parents didn't want a stick in the house so he sneaked into his room and put it under the bed. That night You didn't get much sleep, he heard noises that sounded like... whispers. 

The next morning You woke up with a cut on his left leg and even though he was sure he didn't have it yesterday, but he didn't put much thought to it.

The following night a similar occurrence took place, but the whispers were louder and when You woke up he'd found a cut on his right leg.

You had the idea to have a camera record him while he slept so he could find out what was giving him the cuts. The following morning, You went to check out the footage of last night, but there was no footage to be seen. You asked his parents if they turned the camera off and deleted the footage, but they said they didn't even know that he was using the camera. That night, You wrote what happened in a notebook. -

23:57: A fog spread across the room.

23:58: The whispering starts.

23:59: A sound of squeaking can be heard.

00:00: Something came out of under the bed, it was the stick, but it had arms and legs and rotten skin all over it, the smell of rotten eggs spread across the room. Bones could be seen and his head looked like a little boy's. Blood seeped all over and there was a big cut in his... No not his, Its head.


When You looked at the creature, he met its deep bloodshot eyes. The poor boy tried to scream, but he was so deeply and utterly terrified he could only sit and stare at the creature. The being laughed a dark and maniacal giggle that seemed to shake the room.

You woke up in a cold sweat, "It was all a dream..." he thought. "But why is the stick in my bed? I'll get rid of that stick tomorrow."

You couldn't fall asleep again after that nightmare. The following morning you told his parents what happened and they asked where You found the stick. You brought them to the place where he found the stick and all the color vanished out of his parents' faces. They told him to throw away the stick.

When You asked them why his mom said, "Ten years ago, a little boy died from a fallen branch crushing him. This is where he died and what is now his grave. The locals say this tree that killed him is possessed by the boy and he seeks vengeance by attacking other children."

You forgot about the series of events and never took a stick home again.

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