Creepy Pasta collection

I Didn't Mean It

I was your best friend. We've known each other since kindergarten. I can't begin to count all of the wonderful memories I've had with you. When you died I stayed in here for days and cried. The entire world seemed empty without your personality brightening it for me. I figured if I didn't take a break and clean up your body, they might find me here.

You started dating my ex. I tried to be supportive; I didn't want to seem upset about the idea, but you just had to rub it in my face, didn't you? You had to tell me what a wonderful time you had together. You had to question how I could ever leave something so amazing, didn't you? You asked why I was crying. I just told you to shut up and left your house. Please don't be mad at me.

I didn't mean it.

The next day I invited you over for a camping trip. The entire weekend just for us two best friends. I wanted to make it up to you for seeming so angry. I wasn't angry at all. I was so much beyond angry, that I was calm in your eyes. We've been camping before, so we had a special spot we'd always go to. You called your girlfriend to ask if it was okay. The dumb bitch was fine with it. "It would only be the weekend, right?" I'm afraid you two love birds would be away much longer. I took a "wrong turn" and we ended up in the middle of the woods. Nobody else was around, and it was getting dark. I'm sorry this isn't our usual spot.

I suggested we sleep under the stars together. It was going a perfectly clear night, and I brought the telescope. You had brought fishing rods, but I guess we weren't fishing in the middle of the woods. Don't worry, I brought plenty of food along. We ate our dinner and roasted marshmallows over a fire. That night you suggested we use the telescope. I offered you to go first, I insisted. You happily agreed, sticking your eye under it, you began to point out constellations for me. Oops! Those big logs of wood you brought for the fire? I "accidentally" hit you across the back of the head with one. You dropped to the floor, unconscious. I'm sorry.

I didn't mean it.

You woke up on the ground; now bound with nylon cord I had brought just for this special event! I had also duct taped your mouth. I had no desire to hear your screaming or pleading. This was hard enough to do without that. It was funny to you at first, thinking this was some kind of sick joke. We had always been sick-minded people, talking about how we could torture people we hated if we could. Oh, how ironic it was my would-be accomplice was to be my first victim. You quickly stopped laughing when I pulled out my hunting knife. I guess it wasn't funny anymore when I grazed your neck with the knife, a thin trail of blood trickling behind the strokes. The presence of blood caused me to lose control. I wanted to kill you slowly and painfully. I'm sorry I slammed the knife straight into your side.

That was when I first heard your wonderful muffled screaming. I pulled out the knife, blood oozing from your wound. Thankfully, it hadn't hit anything important. That would of prematurely ended our fun. Maybe that first stab would of given you a sense of the emotional pain you had put me through. I had already given an eye for an eye, but I couldn't just turn you loose. Even you would rat on me and get me thrown in jail. We couldn't have that now, could we? I cut away the skin on your arms and hands, revealing the fresh muscles and ligaments. I took the container of salt we had brought and poured all of it into your exposed flesh. You screamed and winced in pain. The container must have slipped.

I didn't mean it.

I began to rub the salt in. This time your scream was so loud it was questionable to even being muffled. Oh, how this must of strained something. You suddenly turned to quiet whimpering, and began to cry. Awh, don't be sad! I planned this camping trip just for you! I promised you it would be over soon. Are you hungry? Maybe you should have another marshmallow! You look comfortable there on the ground, so I think I'll be nice and cook up one for you! I took the marshmallow and jabbed it with the metal skewer. I then held it over the fire until it was set alight.

I took the duct tape off of your mouth, to my surprise, you weren't screaming at all. All that screaming before really must of torn something! Here, this marshmallow will make you feel better. I offered the marshmallow to you, but you simply turned your head away. How rude of you to decline my wonderful gesture! I held your head still, but you continued to not open your mouth! You brought a hammer; a metal one. We didn't use the tents after all, but you never brought something that only had one use!

I slammed the hammer to your teeth, breaking my way into them. That's too bad, your girlfriend told me she loved your smile! I stepped back for a minute, roasting a new marshmallow while watching you sputter out teeth and blood. In all this struggling the first one seems to have ran out. That's okay, I brought plenty! Now you accepted the marshmallow this time, squirming around in your binds as it burned the inside of your mouth. Don't you like it? I stuck the skewer into your throat, jamming the burning marshmallow down it.

More blood spewed out of your mouth as I stabbed the skewer in and out of your throat, ripping it up in the process. I stuck it so far down that you gagged on it and vomited. Afterwards, you couldn't breath so you just decided to take a nap. Your eyelids fluttered shut.I listened for your breath, but no longer heard it. Perhaps I was a bit too forceful with my gesture. You're such a good friend; you'll forgive me.

I didn't mean it.