CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I was supposed to be someone else" Creepypasta

Episode Date: September 16, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Saturdead: 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...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►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-

Not too long ago, a friend set me up with a blind date. A handsome guy, but he probably spent more time on his hair than I did. He seemed pleasant enough, so I introduced myself and sat down next to him. He laughed and shook his head. I pictures you differently, he admitted. I mean, you're beautiful, but I thought you'd be... Strawberry blonde, I interrupted, a bit shorter, freckled with deep dimple cheeks. He stopped laughing, but kept a frozen smile.

He didn't know what to say. I just stared at him. I knew this was going to happen. So why did I ever think this time it'd be different? Was that it? I pushed. Was that what you pictured? I didn't even notice that I'd raised my voice.

The date was already over as I started screaming at him. Was that what you goddamn pictured? I had already screwed up. At that point, all I could do was lean into it. Let me explain. This has always been the story of my life. People remembered me wrong. They picture me wrong.

Even my own parents could swear that I used to be stroby blonde as a kid. There isn't a single picture of me with that hair colour. I don't have freckles or deep dimples that made my cheeks pop up. I'm tall with ink-black hair. I got Mediterranean features from my Italian mom, and that doesn't allow for a lot of cutesy freckles. Still, every person I've met remembers me that way. Sometimes, when we haven't met for a while, they barely recognise me.

One of the most common questions I get is whether or not I've done something with my hair. It is really frustrating when I have to show my ID, as people just seem hesitant to accept the way I look to be the real me. And yes, I've tried leaning into it, changing my hair collar, even putting on freckles, with a makeup pen. It doesn't help. It still just looks kind of...

off. The weird thing is, sometimes I even trick myself. Some mornings, I don't recognise my own mirror image. For a split second, like a bump in the night, I'm staring at a stranger. I've talked to a therapist about possibly having some sort of depersonisation disorder, but that just isn't it. The problem isn't just me not recognise myself.

it is no one else recognises me either. This is why I've come to an uncomfortable conclusion. Maybe I was supposed to be someone else. This has been my reality for as long as I can remember. Every date, every party, every picture day at school, every single time someone asks me what I've done with my hair or that they like my new makeup. All these little hints and pokes.

It adds up over time. Maybe you can see why I'm a bit sensitive and might lash out at, say, a blind date. But something strange happened that one night. As I stormed off, I took a long walk by the downtown park area. There were a lot of people out and about, but I was all up in my head about overreacting. I thought about ways I could have handled it differently, or that I just had to, I don't know, start taking some kind of medication. Any kind, whatever kind stops this. That's, when I first noticed Daniel, it was this strange feeling.

He was standing outside of a taco truck, talking to a group of friends. He didn't seem to stand out in any particular way, but I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He had this stroby blonde hair, pale skin and freckles, deep dimples that made his cheeks look bigger. He was shorter than his friends, but he just radiated this. Joy. I can't explain it. It feels like I could probably draw it as a picture, but I can't explain it with words.

I had to talk to him. I walked up to him, past his friends, and tapped him on his shoulder. As he turned around, my mind cramped. He wasn't strawberry blonde, freckled, dimpled or pale.

He was Korean, sort of lumpy-looking, and in complete shock. So where are you? his friends. Still, he looked at me like he recognised me. There was something there, and neither of us could say what it was. We both laughed. How did you? We said it at the same time, mirroring each other's expressions. We both laughed again. Did you see... Again, at the same time, his friends were laughing now as well. Jinks, they yelled at us. Jinks, jinks. I had a long conversation.

with Daniel that night, and we got to know each other. Turns out we were both born on the same day, but that was where our similarities ended. We'd gone to completely different schools in different parts of the country, and we both had the same problem. People mistook us for someone else, remembered us wrong. He was even more abrupt for him, not even matching the body shape of the image people thought he was.

His friends eventually grew tired of us and left. Daniel and I sat there in the park, talking long into the night. We complained about the way people talked about us, how we never really felt like someone saw us, how this weird, stupid quirk was the one defining thing about what it meant to be us. When we finally parted ways, we friended each other and promised to speak again. We did, a lot. Over the next few weeks, we talked every day.

I couldn't help myself still mentally picturing him as someone else, like a brain teaser. I thought about him as this thin, pale man with the same features that people thought I had. It bothered me, but this was exciting. I'd never met anyone with the same problem as myself, and all of a sudden it felt like maybe there wasn't that much wrong with me after all. Then... The dreams came. I've always had lively dreams.

I'm a very tactile person so I remember the touch of something before I think of what it looks like in the night I could sometimes feel things that I swore I'd never felt before holding someone's hand with a hand that isn't mine feeling a breeze through someone else's hair

tasting someone else's breath in your mouth the smell of birch trees reaching in through the nose like I was a passenger in another body it would only last short moments and would interrupt whatever other dream I had to the point that I'd wake up, often in a cold sweat, like my body was scared, even though

my mind was calm. Daniel told me he experienced something similar. It was getting more intense. Ever since we met, whatever this problem was had been turned up to 11. We decided to meet and talk about it, for real. We met at the park, not too far from the taco truck where I first saw him. He brought me a milk shop. At first, I didn't even see him.

I was expecting the strawberry blonde man that occupied my mind, not whoever this stranger in front of me was. I shook the thought out of my head, thinking he probably felt the same. We should just go for it, he said. Lean into it, see what happens? What do you mean? Like we do in the dreams? I just looked at him.

At first, I couldn't connect those thoughts to the person I saw in front of me. The more I thought about it, it felt like I could see through him. Like what he showed wasn't real, but there was a realer part of him that I recognised, the part that we all thought we truly saw before the spell was broken. We raised our hands at the same time and held them against one another. For a split second, I was somewhere else.

A meadow in a birch forest, late springtime. Morning dew was still setting on blue sunflowers, surrounding us, standing next to someone I felt close to, someone I felt safe with, and warm hand against mine, like we'd had a thousand times before. And still, that uneasy feeling. I was still on the park bench. I dropped my milkshake. Did you see that? Daniel asked. Yeah, I said. Yeah, I did. I think I know where that is, he said. I've been there. We got to his car. and drove away, following a smaller dirt road out of the city, the one down by the frog lake.

Instead of turning back onto the main road, he followed a small road to the log cabins. We were going off-road, and still, I didn't mind. I felt safe. He knew this place better than me, and I had no idea why or how I would even know that. It was dark outside, but I knew he could get us there either way. We'd been here before. Not this Daniel and not this me, but the real us. The road came to an abrupt end and we got out. Daniel held my hand.

There was an overgrown path in the forest, leading us deep into the woods. Pine trees gave way to birch. The space between the trees tickled winds into pushing against us. For a moment, I was back. That springtime morning, hand in hand, blue sunflowers, a symbol of things to come. We were siblings and we were pure. Something touched my nose and I snapped back to reality.

A feather. Where did it even come from? I don't even want to know anymore, sighed Daniel. I really don't. I think we have to, I said. I know, he nodded, but still. Yeah, still. Someone wanted us to go there.

We had been told it'd be fine that everything would work out. Someone had told us a lie, but I don't know who or why. There, in the dark of the birch woods, I saw the outlines of sunflowers next to the overgrown path. What we were remembering was old, but no less real. My body was itching, telling me to stop. The milkshake wasn't settling in my stomach. All this had ever been was a mild inconvenience. And now it was literally controlling my life.

But at least I wasn't alone, and I could feel something coming. Truth, perhaps. Harsh truth. We knew the meadow was just around the bend, but were no less awed when it came. The sky seemed more open. The sun we were remembering was replaced by a moon, and the white clouds had turned black. This was the place. This is where we'd been.

For a moment, I didn't see Daniel. I saw my brother smiling at me, talking to me, words reaching out to me, like spoken underwater. I believe. I didn't even notice him saying it out loud. The real hymn, the Daniel I'd gotten to know over the past few weeks. What? I said. What did you say? I don't know, he admitted.

I don't know why I said that. What? What else did you want to say? We closed the eyes and spoke from a memory that wasn't ours. Songs Eternal, I said. As before, as is now, as will be. Don't say that. I opened my eyes. Daniel was holding back tears, his face shaking.

Something bad happens. I feel it. We're doing something bad. I could feel it too, like something crumpt. at my throat. I watched another white feather dance in the wind, blowing through the meadow. Daniel nodded at me and took a deep breath. You have to keep going, he said, closing his eyes. I know. You're my kin.

My soul is true. A sun gone black, a moon gone blue. I ask you, saviour, through and through. If not three of us, then who? As before, I said, As is now, Daniel continued. Then quiet. There was supposed to be a third person.

There had been a third person that day. She knew what would happen to us. We were the next generation to meet him. No amount of promised eternity could convince her to surrender. Instead, there was a knife. She felled my brother first, then me. A knife bound for her heart. The song remained unsung.

tainting the land and every living thing within. A promise unkept, potential unraveled, a parted cloud, revealing an eye of a vengeful beast. Every bird in the meadow bursting open at the seams, their feathers falling like snow. I was there that day, watching my brother bleed out in the dried grass. The sun eclipsing black, our spilling blood borrowing into the ground, tainting it for generations. A dark pool puddling deep in the soil, curtailed. cursing our cowardice. We could have been beautiful.

All three of us. The sky had gone dark as the clouds hid the moon. Daniel screamed, only to suddenly stop. A part of me knew what was to come. There was a third person in that meadow. And they just killed Daniel. I couldn't see anything, but I had to run. I tripped on a rotting log and stepped into an antill.

The grass was so dry That I could hear the footsteps of someone approaching Daniel was wheezing for air And then it stopped I'd heard it once before As will be growled the third voice As damn will be

Had it been another second They would have gotten me A memory of their fingertips grabbing my stroby blonde hair flashed before my mind The imagined pain of a knife Between my shoulder blade shot through me The blamers coward was making up for their past mistakes, but it had cost me my life. A part of me was screaming with joy.

A deep, evil part of me, the part that lay dying with the real Daniel. The other part of me was stepping out of an antel and took off straight into the woods. It was a woman. She wasn't alone. Footsteps in the dark, joyous screams, people running, stumbling, falling and crying in the dark. A dozen of them at least. Some came close enough for me to hear their breaths, but it was pitch black. I figured they'd hear me if I kept running, so instead I laid down.

I hid next to a large rock, and the minutes passed. I heard them sweep the area mistaking each other for me. Someone screamed in pain, another screamed in joy. Someone was silenced by a crushing sound as teeth sunk into flesh. Mad men in the dark, whooping and shouting, begging for my death, for their release, asking me to give up and die. I covered my ears and prayed for dawn. My pulse raised so fast, I could barely hear the individual beats anymore. I held my breath until I almost passed out.

It felt like forever, but my panicked lizard mind refused to let me out of the moment. I couldn't even count the seconds. I just waited, moment by moment, for the nightmare to end. In an instant or in eternity, came dawn. It worked. I don't know how, but it worked.

I twisted my ankle without even noticing, but come the dawn, I could barely walk. There was still morning dew in the air, and a couple of blue sunflowers looked my way. I found no trace of Daniel's body, and when I called the police, there wasn't much they could do. They asked me many questions about the supposed

third person, and there were plenty of physical evidence of a group or people in the area, but nothing definite. People rarely fish down at Frog Lake anymore, and most people who live in that area are weird loners. This far into the woods, no one can hear you scream. We could be combing the forest for days without finding a speck of blood. The investigation is kept under wraps. No one has talked to me about it, and no one seems to be asking about Daniel anymore.

And me? Well, people don't mistake me for that story blonde girl anymore. I think she died in that field next to her brother. Maybe now my life can truly be my own.