As a 14-year-old girl living in the woods with my parents, I’ve always felt a bit isolated and disconnected from the rest of the world. But I never could have imagined the horrors that would unfold on the night of the blood moon.
It started out like any other evening. My parents and I were sitting around the fire, roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories. But as the night wore on, I started to feel a strange energy in the air. The air was heavy and thick, and I could feel a sense of unease creeping over me.
As the moon rose higher in the sky, my parents began to act strange. They started yelling at me for no reason, their faces contorting into grotesque, unfamiliar shapes. It was like they weren’t even themselves anymore.
I was terrified, and I knew I had to get out of there. I grabbed my backpack and ran as fast as I could through the woods, not looking back even once. I don’t know where I’m going, or what I’m going to do when I get there. All I know is that I can’t stay with my parents on this night of the blood moon. I have to keep running, no matter what.
As I ran through the dark, twisted woods, panting and gasping for air, I knew I had to keep moving. I couldn’t stay in one place for too long, not with my parents lurking somewhere behind me, their faces twisted into those grotesque, unfamiliar shapes.
But as I stumbled through the underbrush, I suddenly collided with something hard and unyielding. I fell to the ground with a cry of pain, my backpack tumbling to the ground beside me.
As I looked up, I saw a shadowy figure looming over me. At first, I was terrified, thinking it was one of my parents coming to drag me back to our twisted little campsite. But as the figure leaned closer, I saw that it was a man - a kind, middle-aged man with a gentle face and piercing blue eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, offering me a hand to help me up. “What are you doing out here all alone in the woods?”
I hesitated for a moment, not sure if I could trust this stranger. But something about his kind eyes and gentle voice made me feel like I could. So I told him the whole story - about the blood moon, and how my parents had turned into monsters before my very eyes.
“I know it sounds crazy,” I said, my voice trembling. “But I swear it’s all true.”
The man listened intently, nodding his head as I spoke. When I was finished, he patted me on the shoulder and said, “Come on, let’s get you out of here. You can stay with me for the night, and we’ll figure out what to do in the morning.”
I nodded, tears of relief streaming down my face. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt safe.
As the kind stranger led me through the woods and out onto the main road, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope and relief. I was finally going to get help, and maybe even find a way to escape from my monstrous parents once and for all.
But as we approached the city limits, I started to get a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. The streets were deserted, and the buildings around us seemed abandoned and decrepit. It was like the whole city had been forgotten by the rest of the world.
The man led me to a large, crumbling building on the edge of town. “This is the mental health center,” he said, as he opened the door and gestured for me to go inside.
I hesitated for a moment, not sure if I wanted to go in. There was something about the place that seemed off - almost as if it was haunted. But the man insisted, and I knew I had nowhere else to go. So I reluctantly stepped inside, my heart racing with fear.
The inside of the center was even creepier than the outside. The walls were peeling and the floors were creaky and uneven. It was like no one had been there in years.
“Don’t worry,” the man said, sensing my unease. “The staff here are very experienced. They’ll be able to help you with whatever you’re going through.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong. I knew I had to find a way to escape, before it was too late.
But as the days passed and I was kept locked up in that creepy, abandoned building, I started to wonder if I’d ever make it out alive. I had to find a way to escape, before it was too late.
Two nights after I arrived at the mental health center, I woke up in the middle of the night with a fierce thirst. I had been having trouble sleeping, and my mouth felt like it was full of cotton.
So I crept out of my small, dingy room and made my way down the dimly lit hallway to the communal kitchen. I was hoping to find a glass of water, or maybe even a bottle of juice if I was lucky.
As I approached the kitchen, I noticed that the door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open, and a wave of musty, damp air hit me in the face. The room was dark and shadowy, the only light coming from a small window high up on the wall.
I made my way over to the sink and turned on the tap, hoping that the water wouldn’t be too rusty. As I waited for it to fill up, I suddenly heard a noise behind me.
I spun around, heart racing, but I couldn’t see anything in the darkness. I was about to turn back to the sink when I saw a shadowy figure standing in the corner of the room. It was tall and thin, with long, spindly arms and a featureless face.
I froze, too terrified to move. I knew I should run, but my feet felt like they were glued to the ground. I was trapped, with no way out.
As the shadow figure advanced towards me, I closed my eyes and prayed for it to be over quickly. But just as it reached out to touch me, I heard a loud crash and the room was suddenly flooded with light.
I opened my eyes to see the shadow figure disappearing into the walls, as if it had never been there at all. And standing in the doorway, bathed in the light of a flashlight, was the kind man who had brought me here.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand. “We have to get out of here. This place is not safe for you.”
I nodded, tears streaming down my face. I knew he was right. I had to get out of this creepy, abandoned mental health center, no matter what.
As I sit here at my computer, typing out this story, I can’t help but feel like my life doesn’t make any sense. I’ve gone through so much in such a short time - the blood moon, my parents turning into monsters, the creepy mental health center with its shadowy figures lurking in the corners. It’s all so confusing and overwhelming, and I feel like I’m trapped in some kind of nightmare.
I don’t know who to trust, or where to turn. The kind man who saved me still won’t tell me who he is, or where he came from. He avoids contact with me as much as possible, and I’m starting to wonder if he thinks I’m crazy too.
I keep getting the sense that someone, or something, is watching me. I feel like I’m in danger, but I don’t know from what. My life doesn’t make any sense, and I don’t know how to make it right again.