CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I've been blind for nearly 30 years" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 7, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by mrbeefthighs: 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►Carl Shedd: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/o4ON4SUGGESTED 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-

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and let me find out of your way. Start today not your gratis-proof-periodes on Shopify.b. That is Shopify. combe. I live with my parents in a beautiful mountstop country cottage in Chattanooga, Tennessee. It wasn't a big house, but it was a paradise for a small child who loved the outdoors. I spent all my time out in the hills, baking in the summer sun.

The mountaintop was a small, tight-knit community, and my parents wouldn't bat an eyelash if I would leave the house at first light and not come home until after dark. They knew I was safe, and frankly, we're probably glad to be able to be able to be able to be able to be. we're probably glad to have some peace and quiet in the house. My childhood days of adventuring came to a sudden end a week after my 11th birthday. That morning, over our breakfast cereal, my dad had told me the circus had come to town,

and overnight had erected a massive red and yellow tent just outside of the baseball field in the valley below. My mouth hung slight jawed over my rice crispies. Chattanooga was a decently sized town, but outside of the baseball field, the aquarium and the great outdoors, there wasn't much for a kid to do back then. So, when my dad offered to take the family to the circus that weekend, as part of my birthday celebration, I couldn't believe it.

I made sure the hug I gave to my dad every morning lingered for a few seconds longer that day before I ventured out into the mountaintop forest. I ran through the forest, legs pumping like pistons. I was so excited. The circus. How lucky was I to have such a good dad. I finally reached my destination. A tall pine that rested on an overlook that jutted out over the valley below.

I was going to get a glimpse of that circus tent. I don't remember anything else that day. I still wonder if I ever got a brief glimpse of that tent. From what I was told, a branch snapped and I fell about 35 feet. onto the rock outcrop below, knocking me unconscious. When I didn't come home that night, my parents called the police. Eventually, they found me, broken and blooded and still unconscious. A few days after that, I woke up in the hospital,

and a few moments after waking up, I realized I was blind. I hit my head and that rock outcropping in just the right way to knock loose something in my brain, and just like flicking a switch, I lost my vision. My world that was once filled with green trees, brown dirt and blue skies, was now enveloped in a complete and utter blackness. The next few years were hard, very hard, but like all things, you get used to it.

You adapt, you learn new things, you find new passions and carry on with life. I say all of that to tell you, I'm 40 now. I've been blind now for most of my life. I've grown and adapted, and after several years, I finally feel like I'm able to be happy with my life. I have a job.

I work at a school for the blind, several friends, and I live alone in a house that I've finally been able to buy after years of saving. Things have been going well for me. Really well, actually. After all these years in the dark,

I finally feel like my feet are back up under me. I finally feel at peace with my life and the circumstances I've found myself in. I finally feel like I'm back in control of my life. I'm a completely capable adult. I felt that way. Until this week, it all started on Monday. I had a bad day at school, a real stinker. Kids were assholes, my boss was an asshole.

The weather sucked. Just an all-around bad day. We all have them. As soon as I got home that day, I was going to get into bed and go to sleep just to put this day behind me. And that is what I started to do. I walked in, drank a glass of water and crawled into bed. But it didn't feel right. Something was off.

I laid there for a few minutes when it hit me. My bed was warm when I crawled in. Only on one side, as if someone had just gotten out of bed moments before I walked into the room. room. My mouth went dry and I laid in silence for several more minutes, listening. I decided I was just imagining things, got another glass of water and went to sleep. The next day, after work, I came home and plop down on the couch to watch TV. Yes, us blind folk do that sometimes. Some shows you really need eyes for, but with modern accessibility features, scenes have described for us.

It's pretty cool. It's like having a robot read a screenplay for you. Kind of weird to get used to, but it's better than sitting in silence. So, I'm sitting there, not really listening to the TV, more zoned out than anything. When I notice, I'm feeling heat. Nothing too intense, just a low, steady heat is coming from my right side. It took me a minute to realize it was heat coming from a lamp on the end table right next to me. I don't turn on light to my house, ever.

Why would I? I have lamps and light bulbs screwed into the sockets, but I never used them. Friends use them when they come over, but that's about it. I haven't had anyone over at my house for probably a month at that point, and I definitely would have noticed the heat from this lamp before. for now, if it had been on that long. I sit in the spot next to it nearly every day. I turned off the lamp and put it behind me.

I didn't have an explanation for it, but why worry myself, right? Full disclosure, besides being blind, I'm also an idiot. I listened to another episode of NCIS, my grave some dinner, and decided to head off to bed. I left the kitchen, took four steps down the hall as usual. turned to walk right through my bedroom doorway, and bam, down near broke my nose on the bathroom door. This is when I got a little bit freaked out. I never closed my doors.

I'm blind and I live alone. I don't need the hassle of feeling for a doorknop every time I enter or leave a room. Someone had been in my house. I'm not going to lie to you. I was scared witless. I haven't been that scared since the day I woke up with the hospital in Chattanooga, knowing my entire life had just been changed. I pulled my cell phone out to my pocket to call 911, but my hands were shaking from the

adrenaline and I dropped it. I heard the phone bounce off the carpet and hit the baseboards of the wall, so I dropped my hands and knees and started feeling around for it. Five seconds later, I still hadn't found my phone. Had it bounced further away? I swear I heard it hit the baseboards right at my feet. I slowly expanding my search, crawling my way down the hallway, my arms spayed out in front of me, trying to scour as much as the carpeted floor as I could.

Nothing. Tears were beginning to well open my eyes. Lame, I know. But like I said, I was having a bad week, and I was really scared. I sat for a moment, calm myself, even my breathing out, and restarted my search. I only had a few square feet of sleep. space left to search, just the space in front of the laundry room door and the guest bedroom door. It wasn't a long hallway.

I army crawled down the hall, scraping my arms across the carpet, when the very tip of one of my fingers brushed up against a solid object in the middle of the carpet. Finally, I army crawled a few inches more and let my hand fall where I'd felt something solid. There was nothing there. Confused, I crawled a few more inches and tried to. again. Nothing. I crawled a few more inches and reached my hands out again. My right hand fell on... Something. Too big to be a phone. I gently rubbed my hand across its surface. It felt cold and dry, almost fleshy. I realized what it was when it moved out from under my hand. I had grabbed someone's foot.

I screamed and threw myself backwards, struggling to regain my feet. My legs had turned into jelly. I collapsed onto the ground and listened. Legs pulled up to my chest, ready to kick out at any noise within striking distance. I'm not sure how long I was on the ground. It felt like forever. After a while, I slowly got back up to my feet. I stood still and listened to the air.

I couldn't hear anything but the worst. wind blowing through the trees in the backyard and the hum of my air conditioner, but I could feel someone staring at me. I knew that less than 15 feet from me someone was standing in the doorway of my guest bedroom, barefoot and holding my phone. My mind conjured ahead of wild hair, torn clothes and dirty hands that wrapped around the handle of a butcher knife. I slowly backed away, feeling along the wall with my hand, searching for my. my bedroom door, so I could place myself within my house and plan my escape. The air tasted electric, and the silent house held an enormous tension that felt ready to explode.

Any moment, footsteps would launch themselves forward towards me from the hallway, and I would feel a knife plunged deep into my chest or neck or my useless eyes. My breathing was getting heavy again. Was that my breathing? my mind was racing through the possible outcomes and ears were straining to pick up anything in the silence. Finally, my hand brushed against the doorframe of my bedroom. My hand wrapped around the doorknob to steady myself and I used the next quarter second to formulate a plan in my head. Turn around 180 degrees. Take four steps.

Turn left. Take five steps. Door should be there. Unlocked door, leave house. Stand in the middle of the street. and scream my head off until a neighbour or a passer-by stops to help me. Solid plan. Just as I was about to turn around and put my plan into action,

I felt the door nod to my room rotate under my hand and pull itself away from me, opening the door. I felt one hot, smelly breath in my face, and I bolted. Turn 180 degrees, take four steps, turn left, take five steps. Bam, I ran into the kitchen island. I was panicking. My strides were longer when I ran.

Too bad I'd never sprinted around my house before to learn what this would be like. I reached onto the island and grabbed my knife block and pulled out the first knife I could find. I put my back to the kitchen counter and swam my knife wildly in front of me. I shuffled my way around the kitchen island, feeling my way towards the door. When I felt a finger poked me in the forehead and muffled laughter as I slashed the air wild. around me, inching closer and closer to the door. I found the doorknob and pulled the door. It was locked.

Damn, I'd forgotten about that. It wasn't a problem, but I delayed my exit by another two seconds, just long enough to hear a knife slide out of the knife block on the kitchen island. I exploded out of the house and ran into the street screaming. I can't remember if I was screaming for help, or if I was just plain screaming. But it wasn't even a minute before a woman's voice called out to me. Sweetie, it's okay. Drop the knife.

It's okay. I can help you. The woman sounded like she had just smoked about three packs of marlboroughs, or her throat was filled with gravel. It's okay. Sh, she cooed. I lowered the knife and listened to the woman as she approached. I've been blind for nearly 30 years.

I know what things sound like. I can tell what kind of cars are on the road. road by the sound of the tires, I can pick out and isolate specific sounds in a loud room. I know what it sounds like when people walk with shoes or sandals or boots or bare feet. This woman walking towards me had bare feet. I started screaming again, slashing the knife wildly in all directions and had the woman scamper off back towards my house. In the end, one of my neighbours called the police. Not about my situation, but because there was a total psycho screaming and waving a knife wildly in the street outside her house.

I don't blame her. Either way, it got the police here. They found two people in my house. They had been living in the guest room. I probably would have found them in there if I ever went in there. The police said they'd probably been there for about two weeks. A couple of meth heads looking for a place to squat and figured they could just live in the house of a blind guy.

and as long as they were quiet, they wouldn't have any issues. I guess they just figured I would think my house was haunted or something. It makes me sick knowing these people are in there for so long, watching me from the dark corners and laying in my bed. I probably walked right past them a few times or cooked myself dinner while they sat on my couch and watched me. Before I hit the post button on this, there is one more thing that I'm still worried about.

I'm typing all of this out through a digital. App. You know, those apps where you just talk and your computer will type it out for you. They're essential for us blind folk. Anyway, I'm sitting here in my room, talking this out. And I swear to God, in the breaks when I stopped to think, those little pockets of time when my house returns to that deathly silence of a few nights ago. I swear I can hear someone breathing in the room with me. I think the police might have missed one.

I still don't think I'm alone in this house. You're not.