Things didn’t always use to be like this. Before, both of my parents lived in the same house, guys didn’t cat-call me or try to kiss me…or worse. Things use to be better, I would even go to church. But now, there’s chaos and stress and panic. Even today after school, I have to go grocery shopping and drop the bags off at my house before my shift at Starbucks that’s from five to ten.
My family life use to be really nice. Like I said, I was happy with my family. We would go to church, have dinner at the dinner table, and I had friends come over all the time. I even had a boyfriend that I was with for a few months. That was back when I was fourteen.
Things came crashing down from the happiness when me and my mom found out how fake my dad really is. He only cared about us for show; all he cared about was his image: how people saw him, how people treated him, etcetera. He’s been trying to take me from my mom to control me into what he believes I should be. Thankfully, however, he got put in jail for a while because of the amount of DUIs he’s been caught for. My mom’s doing everything she can to feed me and her and keep us in a house, and she’s succeeding, but with her work, it’s all she can do to get home and get in bed at night. I work to help out and go grocery shopping and clean so she doesn’t have to worry about it.
I haven’t told her, or anybody for that matter, about the cat-calling and the verbal, and sometimes physical and emotional, abuse I get at school. I don’t want her to worry. She has enough to worry about already. I can get through all this and be out of high school soon.
This morning, I have to drop off my half of a school project at my best friend’s house on my way to school. She insists on driving herself because of having to take her little brother to school. She says he’s a pain in the car and doesn’t want to bother me with him. I’m very appreciative of her for that.
Getting to school, I’m greeted by my two least favorite people in the world: Joe and Jay, the twin bullies of the school. Their voices are like booming sirens warning you of a tornado or hurricane approaching.
“Well, look who it is! Little miss Emily! We missed you over the weekend, sweetheart.” Jay says with a tone that suggests him being sarcastically nice.
“Nobody to play with over the weekend.” Joe’s tone is more sinister and sadistic.
I try to move past them quickly, keeping my head up instead of looking down. I don’t look at them either.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Jay asks rather seriously.
“I’m leaving.” My voice is stern and very serious. I don’t want to be around them anymore than I already have. Since day one of going to school here, they’ve done nothing but hurt me in more ways than one.
“No you’re not,” Joe says before grabbing my waist and covering my mouth. “Jay, let’s do it. Get the bottle.
Jay grabs a bottle from his backpack which is filled with a clear liquid and a pill at the bottom. Joe moves his hand to my forehead and tilts my head up. The bottle is shoved into my mouth and the liquid and pill slide down my throat. Jay grabs my nose and mouth forcing me to swallow to be able to breathe again. When I swallow and a few moments pass, my head starts to go fuzzy and my legs begin to give way. The last thing I manage to hear is Joe telling Jay not to let me go…
My eyes open only to find myself tied to a bed in what looks like a basement bedroom in a house. My hands and feet tingle from lack of sufficient circulation through them cause by the ropes. Even so, I still try to struggle my way out which, of course, is in vain.
“Joe, she’s awake.” Jay’s voice sounds near though I can’t see him. Being strapped down so tight like this allows me only to see the ceiling.
Footsteps are audible coming from a distance to the room I’m in. Before I know it, I hear Joe’s voice nearby.
“Get her shirt off,” he orders Jay.
“No! Why do you have to do this to me?” I try not to let fear rise in my voice, but I notice it had. I struggle against Jay’s hands lifting my top over my head. His hands are strong and free as opposed to mine being tied down. For a split second when he looks into my eyes, I catch a glimpse of something, something of remorse, behind the sheer evil covering them. Before I know it though, my top is lying on the ground and Joe is reaching for something else.
“I think we should punish her before we give her the pleasure of having fun with us,” he says as he lifts a cut phone charger towards me, the end of it sparking with electricity.
“You’re going to electrocute me!” I say, struggling to get the ropes off of my wrists and ankles.
“That’s the plan, sugar,” Jay says with a sarcastic country accent. “Do it, Joe.”
Joe smirks with approval from his brother, pauses, and stabs the side of my torso with the cut cord. A jolt like I’ve never felt before courses through me, through my veins, through my bones. I scream in agony; being electrocuted is the worst feeling I’ve ever had to endure. After a good few moments, Joe pulls the cord back and stabs it in me in the same spot as before, over and over again. The pain starts to dull more and more and all the sounds I’ve been hearing become nothing more than background noise or nothing at all.
“Wait, Joe, you’re going to kill her!” Jay says, which registers as very faint to my ears.
“So what? It’s not like she was very important, anyway,” Joe responds angrily and presses the cord further into my skin.
“It’s burning her! She’s turning pale!” Jay protests.
“Does it look like I care, Jay?!”
“Whatever. I only wanted to have some fun but this is getting ridiculous.” Jay scoffs at Joe. “I’m outta here, man.” With that, I assume he left.
“He’s a wimp; I don’t need him. I just wanna see you finally die!” Joe says.
I can feel myself becoming paralyzed, but I do my best to glare at him. I miraculously succeed.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’ll all be over soon…” His voice, sounding almost like a snake, trails off.
I quickly lose all feeling starting from my toes and fingers to my head as he continues to stab me with that cord. My mind races with thoughts like ‘Move! Don’t just lay there, damn it!’ but at the same time it slows to where it’s hard to get those seven words across my brain.
Joe starts to laugh maniacally, but it turns into a fading, tunneled sound as the world becomes dark…
I can hear myself think again.
Where am I?
What happened?
Am I even still alive?
Open your eyes.
Nothing happens.
Try again.
Light starts to flood my closed eyes just before I open them.
I’m still on the bed in a relaxed position of how I was in what felt like moments ago. I look at my wrists, but the ties that use to be around them are now lying next to my hands. The same goes for the ties for my ankles which are now next to my feet. I’m here alone; Joe must have finally left. A thought returns.
Am I even still alive?
I lift my hand to my neck to check my pulse.
Nothing happens.
I panic and check for a pulse on the opposite wrist of the hand I’m using.
Still nothing.
I’m dead.
How is that possible? I’m not transparent like a ghost. How can I be dead but still living? I can’t be a zombie because I’m aware of my surroundings. That and I do not want to eat brains. Then I check my hands again, now sitting in an upright position. Tiny sparks of electricity shooting from and around my fingers and palms.
Am I Frankenstein? I, ironically, giggle quietly at the thought.
I slide off of the bed and stand. From there, I decide to look around the house while the boys are gone. Maybe I’ll find something useful if they happen to come back. As I walk around, I find a living room with a massive entertainment system. Everything from home theater equipment to the latest video game consoles to top-of-the-line speakers.
Down the hallway, I find a bathroom first, a bedroom, and a closed door. Curious, I turn the knob and open the door to what looks like a storage room. The whole room is filled with weapons. Looking around, I find AK-47s, revolvers, katana blades, and other swords. Each weapon with a storing case near it, whether it’s a holster or a sheath. I scan through the museum-like room but stop at a certain sword. It’s a metal-black longsword with uncolored metal on the sharpened sides. Its sheath is black with gray lining it, too.
“You look nice,” I say quietly to myself. Then I have the idea to just take the sword, for protection of course, since nobody can throw a dead girl in jail. I check my surroundings to make sure nobody’s around before grabbing the blade and the its holder.
I hear masculine voices flowing down to the basement. One sounds like Jay. “Are you sure she’s fine? If word got out that we-”
“Yes, Jay,” Joe’s voice cuts off, “she’s fine. She’s just unconscious. Now what game are we playing?”
They sound like they’re in the living room by now.
“How about Forza Horizon 3?”
“Sure.”
There’s some rummaging around and the sound of ejecting and inserting a disc coming from an Xbox One. Their game starts, and I get another idea. Revenge.
“Wait,” Jay says, “you play a solo round real quick while I make a sandwich.” With that, he heads upstairs. Joe, however, expresses a face that seems to say, ‘Why didn’t you make one before we came down here?’
With the sword sheathed and strapped to my back, I sneak down the hallway and behind the distracted boy and quietly grab the sword’s handle. Now, since Jay didn’t actually want me dead, I won’t hurt him, at least not physically. But Joe…
In one swift motion, I pull the sword up and out of its sheath and hold it up to Joe’s neck, my hand over his mouth. He becomes surprised and drops the controller to his game, the car on it continuing on its path. I don’t let him see my face, but watching the car head straight for an obstacle, I time my last words for him perfectly.
“Game over,” I whisper in his ear, letting him watch his car crash and the words ‘Game Over’ flashing on screen. Then I quickly slice his neck and ending his life. It is then that I realize his body has a few tiny sparks of electricity coming from it. My hands conducted electricity through my weapon and onto my victim.
I don’t have much time to think about it, though, since Jay’s whistling is audible heading towards the stairs. I dart for the dark hallway that leads to the weaponry room. Re-sheathing my sword, I watch as he walks up to Joe and sees his blood spilled on the carpet. I take my chance of escape during his realization and run up the stars, hearing a sad “Hey!” from the living room as Jay hears my footsteps. I’m out the door and into the cool night before he can even wrap his mind around what all just happened.
Nighttime. Guess I was kidnapped or dead longer than I thought.
My feet pound on the grass and the dirt as I run; I run as fast and as far as my feet will take me, which turns out to be a forest of sorts a block from the twins’ house. Sirens are heard in the distance on the road, but I’m so far in the woods by now that I have time to stop and rest before I keep running further in. I don’t want to get caught, even if I am dead. When I stop, though, I realize I’m not actually breathing and I’m not even tired.
I guess I really am dead… I wonder if I could still go say goodbye to my mom; she doesn’t deserve anymore heartbreak like the death of her daughter.
No, I shouldn’t. As much as I want to, I’m dead and I just killed somebody. I can’t go face her now.
I start to cry quietly.
SNAP.
Somebody’s here.
I wipe my tears and draw my sword. I’m not going to let anybody see me weak. My mind is drawn away from sorrow and towards alertness and anger. Why anger? I’m not entirely sure. The skin on my body is seeping with electricity.
My ears start buzzing and ringing as if I were listening to a radio that’s just gone static. In the faintness of the moonlight beyond the trees, a very tall figure appears. I almost mistake him for a tree in the dark until I see he has no face and it’s just white. The white reflects the moonlight. I take a step forward but he seems to stay the same distance away from me as before. I take another step and he stays away. I noticed he doesn’t move his legs either. I continue following off into the night. A big house on a hill emerges in this forest, and the man seems to be leading me there…
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I, Suki Yamauchi (aka .creeper.), own this story of Game Over’s origin. She is my character, and as of currently, I will only post this on Creepypasta XYZ and Quotev. If there are any reposting a on other websites that I have not listed, they are not mine and therefore plagiarism. If you have any concerns, please let me know.