CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Every year on my birthday, I have to die" Creepypasta

Episode Date: August 19, 2020

Happy Birthday...AUTHOR'S FACEBOOK► https://www.facebook.com/richard.saxo...CREEPYPASTA STORY►by RichardSaxon: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comm... Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

I died for the first time on the 18th of August 2006. It wasn't a particularly pleasant death, nor was it the one that I expected. It was simply the random act of violence that destroyed my life, and it came out of nowhere. We were just relaxing at the pub, enjoying a few drinks after a busy day at work. It was my turn to buy a round of drinks, so I was trying to get the attention of the bartender. I felt someone punch me in the side. At first I thought someone had just hit me, but then I felt the warmth and the rapid stream of blood pouring down my shirt.

I realised then and there that I had actually gotten stabbed. As far as I can remember, it wasn't even that painful. Still, my legs gave out under me and I collapsed to the floor. Even then, I was worried more about ruining my expensive suit, ignoring the fact that I might be dying. Uncoming death is funny like that. Everyone thinks they're the exception, that they'll get out from whatever horrible situation

the universe is thrust upon them. At least that's what I thought, as the life drained from my body. The world around me just faded to black, and before I knew it, I had just died. Then there was a void. At first, it was little more than darkness,

only broken by weird shapes and colors in the distance. As I regained a sense of surroundings I was dragged towards a new world One without pain, suffering nor death All there was were people on a journey to different destinations Whether they had all died like myself Or if they weren't born yet, I didn't know All I knew was that I wasn't afraid anymore

The worries, the anxiety and all my fears Had been left behind A light appeared in the distance endlessly far away. I knew that would be my final destination, my final purpose in the brief life I'd led. Unfortunately, I never managed to get that far. I was jolted awake in my own bed,

soaking wet from the sweat and shaking like a maniac. My hand reflexively clutched my side to cover up the wound I'd sustained. But it wasn't there anymore. In fact, I didn't have a single scratch on me. Had it all been a dream? My phone lit up on the bedside table. I picked it up to find dozens of text messages and missed calls. Hey man, we're at the pub.

You're coming or what? The first message read, sent at 9.43 p.m. Hey, Rick, where the hell are you? The second message read, sent at 1023 p.m. Then, there are a couple of phone calls and another message. I guess you fell asleep, or maybe you're getting lucky. Whatever. Take another shot in your honour.

Happy birthday, Rick. Then I had over 20 phone calls and a singular message that sent shivers down my spine. For goodness sake, pick up the damn phone, something happened to Danny. I immediately called back. My fingers were trembling both from anticipation and from the memory of what had happened

only a night ago. Even if my death had been little more than a nightmare, I knew for sure that I'd met up with my friends at the pub. The phone rang three times. Then Jake picked up. Rick, is that you? Where the hell are you? Jake asked in a panicked, tired voice.

I... I don't know what happened. I guess I fell asleep. I half asked, half stated. Danny got stabbed last night, Jake said, without listening to my explanation. Stapped? How?

I don't know. Some nut job just walked up to him and stabbed him in the side. I almost dropped my phone in shock. Danny had been attacked just like myself, in the exact same place. A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind, but worry quickly became my main concern. Is he all right? He's still in surgery. They're only letting his wife know about.

Wait, here she comes. Jake put his phone down, but I could still hear the muffled sound of their discussion. Danny's wife seemed upset, but I couldn't make out the words. Jake? I asked. He's... he's dead. Danny's dead. The next few moments turned into a blurry haste of information. We'd all known Danny since we were kids,

and now he was just gone. The murderer never even made it out to the pub. Apparently he got shot by one of the patrons as he tried to attack another guest. Still, I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was supposed to die that night. Regardless of what happened, time marched on without answers. Some of our co-workers quit after Danny's death, trying to hopelessly move on.

I didn't blame them. I also needed some distance. I never even told them what I experienced that night. It wouldn't have helped them anyway. A year passed and I hardly spoke to any of my friends. I started to get some semblance of normalcy in the wake of Danny's death, but that would all come to an end. on the 18th of August 2007.

My birthday had arrived yet again and I had absolutely no intention of celebrating it. Instead, I called in sick to work, bought a bottle of whiskey and spent the day playing video games. By the time Day had given way tonight, I'd almost finished the bottle. Even as a rather large guy, the alcohol had hit me hard. At around 9 o'clock, I just passed out in bed

awaiting a horrible hangover in the morning. I only awoke around midnight when I heard the front door forcibly break open, followed by footsteps and whispers. I tried to get up, still drowsy from the alcohol. As I took one step out from bed,

I slipped and came tumbling down onto the floor. It produced a massive crash, loud enough to alert whichever intruders had broken in. I thought you said no one would be home, a man stated angrily. Don't worry about it. I'll go deal with him. The footsteps moved quickly in my direction.

I tried to lock the door, but they were too fast, kicking it open and knocking me back to the ground. A masked man entered my room, holding onto a gun. He only spoke a single sentence to me before pointing the weapon at me and pulling the trigger.

You should have stayed quiet. Unfortunately, the man was a horrible shot. He aimed at my head, but had hit me in the throat instead. There I lay, drowning in my own blood, as I desperately gasped for air. I couldn't crawl away, and I couldn't call for help. I died on my bedroom floor, on my own birthday, just as I had a year earlier. Once life finally drained from my body, and the god-awful pain ceased, I was back in the world beyond. I walked through the same, colourful dimension that lay just on the edge of life.

I admire the shapes and colours as they passed. In the distance, I saw a tree with branches stretching endlessly far from its trunk. From each branch dangled a new person, real but not existing in our world. I wanted to visit them, but that wasn't my destination. Because, just like before, I would awake in my own bed, unharmed by the earth. events from the previous night. My phone buzzed and I was filled with unfathomable dread.

I still couldn't quite believe it, but I started to understand that someone would take my place in death. Hello? Rick, it's Dad. Your mother, she's passed away last night.

A lump formed in my throat. I knew what was coming next, but I had to ask. How? What happened? The police say it was a burglary gun wrong. I don't know. I was working late.

I should have been there. The discussion trailed off from there. My dad was distraught and could barely form coherent sentences. He blamed himself for not being there, but I knew the truth. It was my fault. During the next two months, he fell into a deep depression. I couldn't blame him. He just lost the love of his life.

I moved him with him just to try help pick up the pieces. He put on a strong face, trying his best to keep the ship afloat. But I could tell how close he was to just breaking down. If only I'd been there. It wasn't your fault, Dad. Had you been there, you might be gone too.

You don't know that. But I did know, because the burglars weren't ever supposed to visit my parents' house. They were supposed to kill me. I had to come clean. I had to let him know the truth. But how could I? Half a year passed and the secret ate at me. After everything that had happened, I still didn't know how to explain it. Still, I decided it was time to share my curse. Dad? Can we talk? Yeah, what's going on? He asked. with a word expression on his face.

He knew me well, and he could tell a heavy burden was weighing me down. I started by telling him about my first death, down to the smallest detail. Of course, it matched everything that people had witnessed in the pub that night, even the location of the stab wound. I told him Danny had taken my place in death, and that I felt guilty.

Naturally, he was skeptical at first, but then, I told him about my mother I didn't spare him any details I told him where I'd gotten shot and that the door had been broken down and that there were two robbers

every detail matched perfectly down to the letter I'm so sorry Dad it was my fault I killed her he just sat there in silence processing what I just told him it wasn't your fault

I was confused there wasn't a single ounce of anger in his words only overwhelming empathy how can you say that she didn't have to die he mulled over his next words carefully before speaking you didn't do anything wrong Rick

you just went about your life and these things happened to you I don't know why you've been brought back or even how but you're not to blame for what is done to you so you believe me I asked He nodded and embraced me in a hug

Suddenly I wasn't alone in the world anymore Someone knew what was happening to me What if it happens again Then we'll get through it together He stood by these words Even as my next birthday rolled around That death was more tame I just slipped in the shower and broke my neck

The last thought that went through my mind As I left the world for the third time was how cliche. Once again, I awoke in my bed. I called out for my dad, making sure he was still alive, horrified that he might have taken my place. I couldn't even breathe until he came rushing to my side, asking what had happened. I broke my neck, but I'm fine, I think. It took a while before I figured out who had taken my place that time.

But once I heard that my boss is. died, something broke inside me. He was the kindest man I'd ever met, and just like myself, he slipped and broke his neck. That was the final straw. There wasn't some bizarre coincidence I could just brush off, nor a premonition. I decided then and there that I couldn't live with a responsibility.

I had to put a stop to it, even if it meant giving up my own life. I figured that if I took control over, my own fate and kill myself outside of my own birthday. Maybe I could prevent more people from dying. First, I left behind a long letter to my father explaining why I had chosen to leave. I couldn't face him in person. I knew he'd just tried to talk me out of it, but it was something I had to do. I couldn't allow any more people to die on my behalf. Alas, fate is fickle. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't end my own life.

I tried hanging, but the rope broke. Then I tried to shoot myself, but the gun jammed. When that failed, I tried to drive my car into a tree, but I somehow survived that as well. Any attempt was met with failure. All I could do was wait for my next birthday and let someone die in my place. No matter how many times I tried, I couldn't die.

I was a slave to destiny, and it was destroying me. In 2009 I was hit by a drunk driver and my girlfriend took my place In 2010 I drowned And my kind neighbour had to go through that death In 2011 I died from a brain aneurism Which ended up killing my aunt

And so on and so on Each year I'd die And a person close to me would take my place I kept trying to find a way out But fate wouldn't have it Years went by and on the 18th of August 2019 I would die for the 14th time

I had already fallen sick a week earlier much to the doctor's confusion according to each and every laboratory value I was fine yet I kept getting sicker my father and I both knew my time is near but we also knew I'd be forcefully brought back then at midnight on my birthday my heart just gave out

I was jolted awake in my own bed and the sickness was little more than a distant memory Dad, I called out No response I got out of bed and called his name again I was met with silence I didn't have to call out a third time I already knew what had happened

I carefully walked into his room horrified at what I knew would come he was dead just gone from a heart attack. He'd taken my place and I could do nothing to save him. The funeral came and went in a blur. The only noticeable thing was the missing seats from the people who had passed before him. Some of them had lived their own lives and died as nature intended.

But a number of them were supposed to live on. Instead, they'd just taken my place in death. I inherited a number of things from my father. Among them, I found a letter addressed to me. It looked rather worn, so I could tell he'd written it a long time ago. Dear Richard, today is your birthday, and it has officially been a year since your mother passed. While I miss her greatly, I'm thankful to still have you around. I know that if she was given the choice, she would want you to live.

I feel the same way. We both know that I might one day take it. your place in death. I never doubt that I would happily give my life if it meant that you may live. You didn't choose this curse, so never blame yourself. Just do what every person is supposed to. Appreciate the people around you because you never know which day might be the last. I love you. Dad, since I read that letter, I've been looking for a way out, my father might want me to stay behind. But how can I live on, knowing that I'm taking someone's place? I've long since left town, living by myself in a cabin somewhere away

from people. Hopefully, if I have no one left that cares for me, people will stop dying. At least until I can figure out not only how to die, but how to actually stay dead. I'm sorry.