Let’s start this by saying that I am not native English speaker, so there might be spelling errors.
So a few days ago I decided to paint something. I like to paint with acrylics when I have free time, but I am not that good of a painter. I took the brush and started doing abstarct colors and shapes and by the time I finished it look like I had made a dog-like figure and gave it outline. Now I had scary looking dog in the down right corner.
The next day came and I wanted to add something more to the painting, so I made a human like shape. Round head that had wide shoulders that were at the bottom of that canvas. I made it blue and gave it scary face with a grin and for some odd reason it looked kinda familiar. I brushed it off as a my wild imagination.
Later that same day I went to bed. My father was already fast asleep and it was silent, only air conditioning was quietly humming.
I had just closed my eyes when I heard something. It is hard to describe, but it sounded like someone had moved something around. I got little bit scared but eventually I fell asleep with uneasy feeling. Like someone else was in the room.
Today I woke up just to find out that my painting was turned around. I knew I didn’t do that and didn’t found any reason why my dad would have done that. I ignored that whole thing and thought that I had moved it and forgot since I can easily forget things.
I had been awake for 3 or 4 hours when I started seeing things from corner of my eye. I saw it everywhere. Closing my eyes would cause whispering or footsteps coming closer to me. Our frontdoor won’t open and our backdoor is bolted shut, because the lock had broken. I could have jumped out of the window, but I was too scared to turn my back to it. I deliberated about calling to 911, but I swear I heard a whisper that told be to stay quiet or I will die. I ran to my bedroom and the painting was no where to be found. I only saw some dried blue paint on floor.
Then the running footsteps started. It sounded like somebody was running in the hallway, and everytime it was getting closer. All I wanted to do was cry.
Well now I’m sitting in closed writing this. The human like figure in my painting is standing outside this closet. I tried to call my dad but he didn’t pick up and I don’t know when he’ll be back. I’m scared and I can hear it breathing.
Now it’s trying to open the closet door. I tried to hide behind some jackets. I can’t call 911 because then it will know that I’m here.
It’s opening the closet door, I’m going to die. Please tell my dad to
She is dead. Her head is ripped apart from her body. I did it and you’re next :)