When I heard the news of my brothers passing, it was not a shock that my family was in pieces. I mean, he practically held my family together. What was a shock was that afterwards, I didn’t stop seeing him.
Allow me to give you some context. I was in 6th period Chem class when I was checked out of my school by my step-mother. Let’s call her Kate. Kate explained that my brother, fairly young and healthy, had a stroke and brain hemorrage. I, for obvious reasons, broke down and remained silent on the way to the hospital. He was in a coma for 3 days, before the doctors did what they called a CAT scan and declared him brain dead after a few more tests. Our family came together and decided it would be better if we took him off of his ventilator, and laid him to rest. So we did just that. I have the date and time engraved in my mind. 6:13 P.M. Saturday. Let’s call my brother… Bob.
Well, the night following his death, I had a nightmare that Bob was a ghost, more of a demon, that was haunting me. I woke up in a cold sweat, unable to recall most of the dream. I didn’t mention it to my parents, as they were going through just as much as me, but I did research it. I looked up things like,”What does it mean if you dream about a dead relative?” and other dumb things like that. There was never a clear answer, or one I could understand at least.
The night following said nightmare, I had gone out on a walk to clear my mind after a heated argument with my parents over everything that had happened, including things other my the death of Bob. I was walking down the sidewalk on a street about a mile from my house. It twisted and bent around the corner of the road, as it had been built on the side of a large hill, that had a forest upon it. I walked a while longer before stopping to rest under a streetlight. It was cold outside, and me, being the stupid person I am, had forgotten my jacket. I shivered as I reached into my pocket to pull out the picture of my brother that I had. I looked at it for what felt like years, but was most likely only a few moments.
I heard a noise, a sort of low, distant groan off to my left. I lifted my head to look at whatever it was, and my eyes were met with a horrifying sight. It was quite obviously my brother, with some very large differences. First off, he had no eyes. There wasn’t any blood coming out of it or anything gory like that, just two large, circular pits where his eyes should’ve been. Next, he had his mouth sown together. Again, there was no blood, just the mouth of his that used to make jokes and flirt with all of my friends, sown together, unable to move. Also, he was abnormally tall. It was like someone had stretched him out. His arms were longer, his legs, even his head seemed to be longer. He stood a good 7 feet tall. I looked at him. I kept looking. I couldn’t stop. He started to tilt his head. The moment he put his leg out to walk towards me, a truck drove past, full speed, pulling me abruptly back to reality. I ran home as fast as I could, and hid in my room with all the lights on for the rest of the night.
That was the first time I saw him. He shows up a lot now. During school, at track practice, when I eat dinner, and anytime I am alone. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t move, he just stands there, menacingly. I have to ignore him. If he knows I see him, he will do whatever he was going to before the truck interrupted him the first time. I don’t know what to do. I am so scared for my life all of the time. If it doesn’t end soon… I am gonna have to end it myself.