Creepypasta (origin/stories)

Emily

"...Victims of these horrific crimes were reported to have their limbs either extremely mutilated or completely sawed off. He or she is targeting only women so far. The culprit still has not been caught and is still on the rampage..."

I flipped my TV set off and slumped down in my bed. I rolled over to check my clock. "Man... 3:29 and still not a wink of sleep..." I mumbled, sliding down in bed and staring at the wall. This was the fourth night of insomnia I had suffered. I could not sleep whatsoever. I tried everything – counting sheep, relaxing my body – you name it, I had tried it. Nothing seemed to work.

I would only doze off maybe once, and it was only for about 10 or 15 minutes. When I did sleep, however, I began to have very ominous dreams. It was the same each time. I would be standing in a blank, wide room. The only thing in sight was this girl. She was young, only 7 or 8. Her hair covered her face. She kept mumbling the same message over and over, "I have to be perfect... I have to be beautiful... make Mommy happy..."

I had no idea what those creepy dreams were about, but they were only dreams, figments of my imagination. Nothing to get worked up over, but they sure didn't help me sleep any better. I couldn't run like this for much longer, surviving days by sucking down 1 or 2 cappuccinos before work. It didn't help a bit that I had to work the dayshift, starting at 8 AM.

I worked at a small café in town as a waitress. You know, nothing special; just your average little burger joint. It never made big money except on holiday weekends. We made enough to get by. I came into work at 8 AM and worked until 4 PM. Days weren't too long and work wasn't too rough. We'd have maybe 30 customers stop by every day, so days seemed very slow.

After a long day of work, I clocked out at 4:10 and started to head home. To get back to my apartment, I had to pass this little park every day. It was a nice little area, with benches and a playground. I'd always see happy faces peeking around the slides and hear laughter from the swing set. But on that day, something caught my eye. Something was abnormal.

On one of the benches sat a little girl, no more than 9 years old. She had long, curly blonde hair that ran to the middle of her back, some of it pulled back by a big white bow. She had bright blue eyes. She wore a gray short-sleeved dress that came down just above her knees. I couldn't see her legs or arms at all; she had white leggings on under her dress and she wore a white long sleeved shirt underneath her dress. She wore black slip-on shoes on her feet. She looked happy, sitting and humming a nursery rhyme. This was the abnormal part – she was alone.

In my town, you never leave your kids alone. It's not a big town, but crime rates are high, especially with this serial killer about. It was so odd to see a young girl alone in public at this time of day. So, choosing to be responsible, I decided to go talk to her. I slowly walked up and waved. "Hello there!" I greeted.

"Hello there, Miss!" She greeted me, her childish voice full of cheer.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself at this time of day?" I tried not to sound awkward.

"Oh, I don't have to be home until the sunset. My mommy doesn't mind." The girl replied.

"Well, the sun's about to set now," I pointed to the sunset, "would you like me to walk you home?"

"Sure!" The girl giggled, and she reached for my hand and held it as we walked.

"By the way... what's your name?" I asked.

"My name is Emily." She smiled at me.

——————–

We walked down an empty street into the suburbs of town. It was about 5 in the evening and the sun was setting. We had talked about all sorts of things on the walk to her house – how old she was, what kinds of things she liked, stuff like that. We walked in silence for about a minute or so, when suddenly she stopped and turned to me.