Chapter 6 ~ Bloody Painter

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I went to sleep after Jack left last night. Why was he asking all those questions? I don't know. 

When I woke up in the morning, it was rainy. Aw... I wanted to go to the park today. I guess I will stay home and draw a picture. I got dressed in my pretty blue dress and sparkly flat shoes. Nana bought this for my birthday last year.

I walked down to the kitchen to see Mommy, sitting at the table with a cup

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I walked down to the kitchen to see Mommy, sitting at the table with a cup. "Good morning Mommy." I said. "Morning Brook." She muttered. I smiled and grabbed a plate. I put the bread in the toaster, trying to not burn myself. 

The toast popped up and I took it out. I set it on the plate and walked out of the kitchen. I went up the stairs to my room.

I ate the toast and took my plate down to the kitchen. Mama was sleeping on the table. Keith and Daddy must be sleeping still.

I got the paper and my special glasses that I wear when I read or draw. Mama says that they're smart glasses, but I don't know. I grabbed the pencils and markers. I opened my closet door. To a normal person, it's just a room filled with crowns and trophies. But behind a small spot where there's nothing, it's my secret room. 

I keep my favorite things in here. I have a picture of BEN and me in here. The thing I care about. If something happened to it, I would feel horrible. 

I sat down and turned the small light. It was cold, but I don't care. I love the cold. For some reason. 

(A/N- I know that Creepypastas don't normally go out during the day, but this story is different.)

I heard my bedroom window open, like last night. I continued drawing. I wasn't really thinking, just dragging the pencil along the page. I paused,  hearing the door to my secret room open.

A tall man with blueish hair and a mask with a smile walked in. "Let me guess, you're Brooklynn?" The man said. I nodded, not looking up. Art is too pretty to mess up with interaction from people.

"You like drawing." He said. "Well thanks for pointing the very obvious." I muttered, keeping my head down, curls covering my face. He chuckled and bent down towards me.

"That's beautiful, Brooklynn." He remarked. I glanced up at him and nodded. "Thank you. I take pride in my artwork."

"Do you have anymore drawings?" The man asked. I took out a small box of my art. There was about 20 other drawings in there. I never show anyone my drawings but I feel like I can trust him. For some reason. It's the same feeling I had around Natalie, Sally, BEN, Jeff, Jack, Laughing Jack, and Jane. It's like you feel uneasy, but you know they can't do anything, right?

"Brooklynn, these drawings, they're magnificent." I looked up, tearing my gaze away from the paper. "Thank you, sir." "Call me Helen." The man, or "Helen" said. "Call me Brook or Brookie. Friends call me that." 

"Who are your friends, Brook?" Helen asked. "Jane, Jeff, Natalie, BEN, Sally, L.J., Jack, and you." I answered. "She was right. Maybe his theory could be true." Helen muttered. "Why do you wear that mask, Helen?" I questioned. "I wear it because I want to be happy all the time." I nodded.

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Helen stayed with me for about the next 3 hours. He would compliment how I did something every now and again. He was nice. You are probably yelling, saying that why does an older stranger become friends with a six-year old girl, right?

I was raised to believe that everyone has a dark side and a light side. Which one you choose is what makes you who you are.





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