A creepypasta original, story and illustrations all belong to GHOSTIE/BONES (@dangerbizz)/(@dangerbizzreal).If you want to see more of my works, characters, or see more about me, please refer to my carrd linked below. Updates might be slow, I’m putting a lot of thought and energy into the story.
14 years prior to the incident.There the child stood, being scolded once again, pulled out of class with her back against the wall over something that she hadn't done.“I had asked you to lower your voice 4 times already, and you still continued to talk as if you're the center of attention!”Gwendolyn practically sank where she stood. She had been quiet the whole class, the only time that she talked would be to ask her friend how to do something in the class activity. This wasn't anything new, nor was she targeted by primarily the teachers.The elementary school in general might as well be in shambles. The teachers never did anything to monitor or punish genuine bad behavior — the other children were practically allowed to do anything as long as it was away from the eyes of adults. Gwendolyn had just happened to be a common target, since she's always had a problem with falling asleep since she was a tot. She would often fall asleep in the middle of class, and instead of the teachers checking up on her to make sure if she's sleeping okay, they would scold and almost humiliate her in front of 13 other kids, which did not help the bullying in the slightest.“I better not hear you again, or you're getting a phone call home.”“I'm sorry, Mrs. G…”“Sorry isn't going to change anything.”The teacher pushed her back into the classroom and she almost tripped over her feet. The other kids would start giggling at her clumsiness a little bit before the teacher would hush them. Gwendolyn sat back at her small colorful table with 5 other kids and she would look down with tears down her face the whole time.During recess was when it all usually takes place since that's when the kids have the most free time to roam around and play with each other. It just so happened to be the same recess time for kids who were in older grades as well. There was a particular group of 4th graders who would take their time to actively try and spot where Gwendolyn was — usually she would be hiding behind the play structures or around the corner of the school. Neither were very good hiding places, so it would usually end up with her arm being yanked and pulled elsewhere.“Hey, Gwendolyn! Do you want to play with us?” one of them would ask.“Um…”“Come on, let's go on the slide!”They dragged Gwen's arm to the top of the plastic yellow slide. She tried her best to keep up and the bully, Maddy’s grip would start to hurt her wrist.“Come on, slide down!”“But it's too scary…”“Are you a scaredy cat? Chicken? Go down!” Her tone started to sound a little aggressive rather than cheerful.Gwendolyn looks down at the end of the slide in front of her. To a tween it would’ve been nothing at all, but for Gwen’s age it might as well be the leap of death. She pauses before hesitantly sliding down, which seemed fine at first before one of the older kid's friends, Jasmine, pushed her off the side of the structure which was about 6 feet off the ground from where she was. Her small body hit the wood chips and she would immediately start crying.“Good one!” Maddy would laugh, before the two other kids would run up to Gwendolyn.Maddy would take a hold of her arms before the two other girls, Jasmine and April, would start spitting on her and kicking her in the stomach and legs until she got fresh red bruises — In some areas she started bleeding. Gwendolyn screamed for help but when she frantically looked around for teachers, they were busy talking and laughing with each other.Things like this would continue for as long as Gwendolyn stayed there, and her mother has had many meetings with the teachers and the bully's parents, so many that she had to take time off of work to attend. Usually after the first few meetings, the bullying would die down before picking back up again once the girls were out of trouble. After she would come back home, her mother would patch up any of her scratches and bruises that she gained from that day. Due to financial struggles and lack of other options, Gwendolyn would have to stay there and put up with everything and the meetings would continue to go on without much change.Gwendolyn was driven home with the radio on, and her face had still been a little red and puffy from what happened. Her mother looked at her with the same saddened expression but over time that expression became more weary, since it was no longer a new experience to see her child come home like this. She would have asked what happened this time but she no longer wanted to know anymore. The small red pigtails that had been tied up on her head were now lopsided and unruly, and her clothes smothered in dirt and wood chips.”Oh, honey…” She lightly brushes her fingers over the harsh wound on her arm. Some of the tissue seemed to be broken and the purple hue that bruises normally had was very dark and was spread out quite a lot. She starts up the car again and drives away from the back exit of the school.Her mother thought she’d start a light conversation to ease her up.”So… did you see your friend today? What was her name…”“Do you mean Stephanie?”“Yes, Stephanie. Did you two talk today?””… No, she doesn’t have the same recess as me, remember?”“Ah, I see. Right. I forgot…”Soon they got inside, and Gwendolyn was brought into the bathroom so her wounds could be tended. Some disinfectant was put on the worst wound, cleansed, and a large patch-like bandaid was applied over top of it. It stung, as if lemon juice was put on it as it was applied. The other bruises had to heal on their own.The season of autumn would bring a warm tint to the leaves falling off the many trees that scattered around the rural community that the family resided in, the dead golden grass flattened by rain and would stretch out for yards almost as far as the eye could see. The dampened greenery would give off an earthy fragrance, with a distinctive smell of dirt, rain, and wood. Oddly refreshing, though this was not uncommon for this particular part. Many passersby wouldn't see much here to find exciting or enjoyable, unless they happened to like the occasional abandoned house with rotting wood and dirt, or maybe a dead bird or two on the side of the road.The smell of freshly cooked meat, peas and mashed potatoes would fill the aged house, warming the whole place up and keeping everyone toasty. It was just about to be dinner time, and the sound of Gwendolyn's small feet would be pattering down the flight of stairs with her new bucket of chalk.“Careful Gwen,” Marie, her mother, would exclaim as she did not want her daughter getting herself hurt again. “You'll trip if you keep that up!”Completely ignoring her warnings, Gwendolyn ran up to her mother cooking dinner.“Mom, can I please play outside?”“No love, it's just about to be dinner time. I already got home late after work, so after this I'll tuck you in.”“But I really really want to! I want to play with my chalk…”Gwen whines a little bit. The plastic wrap was around it still, as well as the price tag. Her father, Adam, had taken her out with him to buy groceries and as soon as she had laid eyes upon the small translucent bucket of assorted colors, he did not hear the end of it. Gwendolyn was always a very well behaved child as far as a five year old goes, so it was unusual for her to be so persistent.Marie sighs before looking down at the pleading child.“Alright… but I'll come out to get you as soon as dinner is finished. You have about 10 minutes.” Marie says, pouring the bowl of frozen unthawed peas into the pot of boiling water.Gwendolyn immediately scrambles off.“Yay! I'll go get my shoes!”She heads for the shoe rack beside the front door and snags her dirty purple runners, very small in comparison to her father's work boots and her mother's slip-ons. She sticks on the straps on her feet, making it tight enough so it's not loose on her feet, but not so tight that it would be uncomfortable in any way.After doing so, she runs for the back door and struggles to push open the sliding door, and as soon as she makes a crack large enough for her to fit, she slides out with her chalk bucket and heads for the patch of concrete in front of the patio. She tears open the plastic as best as her tiny hands could before she rips the lid off and goes to grab a few, scribbling all over the hard and rough surface.As time passes by, she lets her hyperactive imagination run free. This was the most energy she let out, other than running around the area and going a little farther from the house than she should. The houses in the community were very far away from each other, so she had little to no social interaction with other kids her age — not including school hours.Eventually the area was covered in doodles and scribbles, to the point where there wasn't any empty space to color on anymore, or so she thought. Her eyes looked around for what else she could color on, and she saw some large trees about 17 feet away from her house. Her mother had warned her not to go too far away from the house so she doesn't get lost. But where was there to get lost in? After all, she was just going to say on the outside of the forest, and her mother would still be able to see her.She made her way over to the trees, occasionally looking back at her house to make sure it wasn't going anywhere. She felt increasingly more unsure of herself the closer to the trees she got, but she still wanted to color and she didn't want to wait until the next time it rained, even if it would likely be soon.Once she got to the edge of the trees, she dropped her bucket on the ground and started to scribble on the bark. She was a little bit disappointed since the bark would chip off, thus ruining her drawing, but she was persistent and she kept rubbing the chalk until it made something she was proud of. As time went on, it started to get a little later in the day and she started to wonder why her mother wasn't calling her in to eat yet. It felt like it had been over ten minutes, but she took that as her chance to continue drawing. She didn't want to go inside anyway just yet.She looked at the tree and smiled widely. She attempted to draw a cat, but it looked more like a blob if anything — but she was proud of it, and she decided that she would draw different animals on each of the trees. She looked for the next tree, and she stuck her hand out to it. Upon looking at it closer, she realized that the material looked less rough than wood, it had a dark color than the others and the shape was far too smooth to be a tree of any kind.She stared at it for a long moment, trying to decipher what it was until she saw it move an inch… she gasped, and her head whipped up to look at it and saw what she had least expected.A blank white face.At first she was fearful, seeing something standing at about 10 feet tall looming over her, until she realized that it was in fact not doing anything other than standing completely still and looking down at her. The figure moved its white hand with its long slender fingers outwards in a gentle manner, a sort of sign for her to take his hand. She felt a sudden warm, happy yet somewhat fabricated feeling of comfort, as if the figure were telling her that it wanted to be her friend, but without using words.Gwendolyn immediately took its hand, and she smiled widely.”Look at the thing I drew!”Her small finger pointed at the tree that had been scribbled on.“It’s a cat, his name is Helios, it's the cat that my grandma has. But he died though.” She says with little to no sadness in her voice. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the concept of death quite yet, given the fact she was still rather young. She got so busy rambling about her drawings that she almost hadn’t heard her mother calling for her to come back inside.“Gwen! Dinner’s ready! Come inside please!””Not yet! Come and meet my new friend!”“What?”“Come and meet my new friend!””Gwendolyn Blum, come here, I can’t hear you.”A moment of silence passed before Marie grumbled and set down the spoon she had been using to stir the cooking food. She puts her slip-ons on and walks outside, looking for her child. Her eyes landed on her, at the edge of the trees, with a big smile on her face.“Gwen, I said come inside. Please.”“But look! Look who I met today!”Marie raises an eyebrow at her and looks to where she’s pointing at.“Well, where are they?”Gwendolyn turns to look at where it was, or rather where it had previously been before she turned around. It was just like her mother had said, it was nowhere to be seen. She tried looking all around her for it, but to no avail. He was no longer in sight whatsoever.“Where— where is he? Mister! Mister tall man?”“‘Mister tall man’?”“Yeah! He was just here! He was!”Gwendolyn starts to tear up and she stomps a foot on the ground.“Whoa, there. Take a breather, honey. Let’s go inside, your father is waiting for you. You can talk to your imaginary friend tomorrow.”“But he was really real! He was! I saw him! He was in the trees—“Gwendolyn gets cut off by her own crying, her face scrunching up and turning red almost immediately.”Shh.. I believe you.”Marie picks her up and presses her lips against her small head. She in all honestly didn’t believe a word she said, but she lied for the sake of making her child feel better. Marie looked back at the trees with furrowed eyebrows as she made her way back inside the house. She was a little surprised by how much of a reaction she got, it almost made her worry about if there possibly really was a person she met — that maybe she had met a possible stranger, a creep maybe, but she dared not think about that too much…Adam, Gwendolyn’s father, stood up just as Marie was about to put away the dishes after dinner was finished. Gwen ran back upstairs, presumably to play with her pony toys.”It’s okay, I’ll do that for you.” Adam took the dirty dishes and stacked them accordingly in the dish washer. “Are you alright, by the way? You look like you have something on your mind.”“… I dunno, it’s just… I don’t know, Gwendolyn was playing outside and she told me to meet her new friend, and there wasn’t anything there.”“Well, that sounds like she has an imaginary friend to me.””Yes, but you see, that’s what I said. But what sort of struck me was the fact that she was so, I don’t know, overwhelmingly upset that she couldn’t see it.”“But love, that’s just Gwen. She’s always upset, she’s always sad. School has just gotten to her. She was a ray of sunshine before she started grade one, not that she isn’t anymore… she’s still a kid who gets happy over kid things, but she’s gotten quieter.” Adam pauses, looking over at Marie who seemed to be thinking about what he said. “…I wouldn’t think about it too much if I were you. Let’s just see if it happens again and then maybe we can try and figure something out. Okay?”“… You’re right. But I just can’t fathom how we can consider our child being sad to be a normal thing now…”Marie looks up at her husband with weak eyes before slowly walking away from the kitchen counter as Adam stares longingly at her until she was out of sight. She’s right. But there was nothing they could do.
All artwork is made by GHOSTIE/BONES (@dangerbizz) and is to not be copied, traced, reuploaded, or used without permission — DM me on Discord (@dangerbizz) for questions.
IN AMERICAN DATE FORMAT.07/06/2024 — prologue uploaded.08/25/2024 — separated prologue from the main story category, changed fonts and design around.XX/XX/XXXX — full story uploaded (in progress).
