{"id":299,"date":"2018-05-24T09:37:18","date_gmt":"2018-05-24T09:37:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/?p=299"},"modified":"2018-05-10T09:42:36","modified_gmt":"2018-05-10T09:42:36","slug":"something","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/something\/","title":{"rendered":"“Something”"},"content":{"rendered":"

My friend\u2019s been locked up for a while now. He\u2019s been begging me for ages to share this with people. For the record, I don\u2019t believe any of it. But I promised him I\u2019d write down everything he said verbatim. Take it or leave it as you please. <\/em><\/p>\n

You\u2019re not gonna believe me. No one ever does. But I\u2019m gonna tell you my story and you\u2019re gonna have to decide if I\u2019m a murdering and lying asshole or not. I\u2019m currently a resident in San Quentin State Prison doing life without the possibility of parole. In other words, I\u2019m fucked. Unless Jesus comes down and saves my ass, I\u2019m gonna die in here.<\/p>\n

The first thing you have to know about me is that I\u2019m innocent. Despite what you saw on the news, I didn\u2019t kill my family. Before you stop reading, I know everyone says they\u2019re innocent. Hell, everyone in San Quentin is innocent, right? But I REALLY didn\u2019t do it.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m not gonna lie. I\u2019m not gonna try to sell you some bullshit about how I was this perfect citizen and that everything was hunky-dory between me and Tricia. They weren\u2019t. Far from it. But I loved her. We fought about as hard as we fucked. And to be completely honest with you all, I knew she wanted a divorce. I saw the text messages on her phone. And you know what? I don\u2019t blame her. Thinking back now, I was a terrible husband. I probably drank too much.\u00a0 No, I\u2019ll be honest: I did drink too much. But I never ever ever laid a hand on her or the kids. I don\u2019t have much pride, but I pride myself on not being an abusive asshole like my own dad.<\/p>\n

When I heard what happened to Tricia and the kids, I knew I would be the first suspect. It\u2019s always the husband or wife, right? And when the police left me in that room, I thought and thought. Did I do it? Could I have killed my whole family? But no matter how much I racked my brain, I don\u2019t even remember being within a mile of that house. Where was I? I was out at the game and then I went to the bar with Mike.<\/p>\n

You would think that you would remember killing your entire family. And if not the actual killing part but SOME part of it. The driving over there, the opening the door, the creak of the goddamn wooden floor outside the master. SOMETHING. But that\u2019s the thing, I don\u2019t remember none of it. Not a single second.<\/p>\n

And don\u2019t say I was drunk. I may have had one beer at the game. Two at the most. And a beer or two more at the bar after. But c\u2019mon, we all know no matter how drunk you are, you remember something. I\u2019ve never been so wasted that I remember nothing. And that\u2019s the thing, I remember NOTHING. ZERO. And that\u2019s why I\u2019m innocent.\u00a0 Because I wasn\u2019t there.<\/p>\n

The first time I heard what really happened at the house was in court. Tricia was stabbed 89 times. 89 fucking times! The kids\u2026 less. But too much. I don\u2019t want to get into it. Let\u2019s just say there was so much blood everywhere the police thought that a dozen people had been killed in that room. Not just the three bodies that were lying on the bed.<\/p>\n

The crime scene photos were hard to look at, but the first time they showed them in court I couldn\u2019t take my eyes off them. Because I had seen them before. But not in real life. In my imagination. I know this sounds horrible, but I\u2019m going to admit something that is gonna make me look bad. In my deepest darkest moments, I had imagined hurting my family. But I would never REALLY considered do it. It was just something that helped me blow off some steam. I assumed it was just some terrible coincidence.<\/p>\n

When the neighbors said they saw me go inside the house and then leaving the house, I thought they were fucking liars! I assumed that they just hated me and were making up stories\u2026 Because how could they see ME going into the house? And then my so-called friend Mike went up there and said he hadn\u2019t been at the game with me. In fact, he told them he hadn\u2019t seen me in months. That dick! How could he go up there and tell such a bald face lie?<\/p>\n

But when they showed the jury the security camera video of me buying the knife at the store, I almost fell out of my chair. Because right there on the screen, it was me. I thought it was some kinda joke, because I\u2019ve never in my whole life been to that store, let alone bought a knife from there. But that guy didn\u2019t just look like me, he WAS me!<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t blame the jury. If I were the jury and saw that video and listened to that testimony, I would have done the same thing they did. But I swear, it was someone else. And you gotta believe that even though he looked like me, walked like me, and had the same dumb look as me, that IT WASN\u2019T ME.<\/p>\n

Are you still reading this? I wouldn\u2019t blame you if you stopped. I know I sound like a crazy person. But I\u2019m gonna go to my grave telling anyone who\u2019ll listen that it wasn\u2019t me in that video. The first week at San Quentin, I told some of the other guys my story. Some of them looked at me like I was off my rocker. These are pedophiles and murderers telling ME that I was crazy. But a few, they looked at me like I wasn\u2019t totally insane. Those guys I got to know and when I trusted them, I told them everything. And you know what? They believed me. Why? Because they say the same shit happened to them.<\/p>\n

You ever wonder why all the neighbors always say: \u201cHe seemed like such a nice guy\u201d right after he went on some shooting spree at work? When I heard people say that, I used to laugh at them for being so damn ignorant. Now I see it for what it is. They weren\u2019t being ignorant. It\u2019s because maybe the person who committed crime wasn\u2019t them.<\/p>\n

Over the last few years, I\u2019ve had a lot of time to think about things. The best I can figure is that \u201csomething\u201d comes into us and takes over our bodies when we\u2019re really angry or stressed. They know what our fantasies are and they do what we couldn\u2019t\u2014or maybe wouldn\u2019t\u2014do ourselves. And we go somewhere else far far away, that\u2019s why we don\u2019t remember anything. It\u2019s sort of like an alien abduction but without the little gray aliens and the anal probes.<\/p>\n

When I first discovered all of this, I spent hours looking at myself in the mirror and intentionally trying to get myself worked up about my situation. Most of the time I imagined killing the guards and escaping. I would study my reflection and hope that there would be some sign saying that \u201csomething\u201d has come back. Like my eyes would turn black or roll up into my heads. But that\u2019s just in the movies. No matter how hard I tried, I didn\u2019t see any sign of that \u201csomething.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019m telling you all of this to warn you. Don\u2019t let yourself get too angry. Don\u2019t fantasize about doing anything bad. Or you just might end up like me.<\/p>\n

PS: Before you ask, I have no idea what the \u201csomething\u201d is. I wish I did. Sometimes I think it\u2019s an alien or a demon. But one thing I\u2019ve come to believe\u2026 it\u2019s in all of us.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My friend\u2019s been locked up for a while now. He\u2019s been begging me for ages to share this with people. For the record, I don\u2019t believe any of it. But I promised him I\u2019d write down everything he said verbatim. Take it or leave it as you please. You\u2019re not gonna believe me. No one […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":45,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[39,33,153],"class_list":{"0":"post-299","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-creepy-stories","7":"tag-monster","8":"tag-murder","9":"tag-prison","10":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/299","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/45"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=299"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/299\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=299"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=299"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.horrorpalace.com\/creepypasta\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=299"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}