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Scratch



Estimated reading time — 4 minutes

I could say I was having a pretty peaceful life. I just graduated high school and is about to enter college in a week, to which my mom is really proud of because I decided to pursue something great for my life instead of just applying for McDonalds or something. Anyway, everything was going along pretty normal, until one day I overheard my mom talking to someone through the phone.

“Who was that mom?” I asked because she looked sorry for something, like a friend had a problem and she was feeling sorry for her.

“Oh, just our old neighbor. Remember that house we lived in many years back? He said the family that moved after us just left yesterday.”

My brows just furrowed, since I couldn’t recall living in a house other than this one. Then my mom softly laughed and patted my back. “You probably don’t remember because you were too little.”

“Really? Why did we move away?”
“We moved because of you, honey.” She chuckled as she waved it off with her hand. “You kept on bugging me about some monsters or whatever. To be honest, we wouldn’t have left there if your aunt didn’t offer this house for only half the price. A lot cheaper, and you kept on complaining back there anyway so I just agreed to move.”

I just nodded in understanding, though I still couldn’t recall what she was saying. Eventually I just let it go and continue with my business. Making sure my papers are complete, packing my stuff that I’ll surely need; you know, the usual things to prepare before you move away and enter a new part of your life. The next day, I guess I could say boredom and curiosity just attacked me out of nowhere, and the idea of visiting that old house crossed my mind. I asked my mom, and I was actually surprised when I found out it was just a 15-minute drive away. You guessed it right; I did go to the house, and as soon as I stood there in front of the empty driveway, the memories started flooding back like a light switch was flipped open. And I did remember the little me complaining about something almost everyday during breakfast, but I just laughed it off, thinking that it was probably just my wild imagination as a kid.

I carefully approached the door, just in case someone was still in there even though mom said the family moved out and the house is probably empty by now. I tried to opened the door, not really expecting it to be open, so I was surprised when it did open. Maybe I’m just lucky, eh? Anyway, the house still had a lot of furniture around, and I actually remember myself doing childish stuff on them like jumping on the sofa or scribbling on the cabinets. I could only chuckle as the memories flashed by my eyes like I was watching a movie. Eventually, I found my way to my old room, and my small bed was still there on a corner, like all these years it has never been moved the other way. The tiny amused smile on my face faded away as I started to remember what I was fuzzing about while we still lived here.

I kept on complaining about a monster under my bed. Every night before I sleep, mom would check and assure me that nothing is under there, but as soon as the lights are off and mom is gone, I start to feel those long, slow scratching right against the wood under my bed. I could even feel it vibrating through the mattress and the thick blanket I wrapped myself with in fear. Eventually, I’ll fall asleep despite of the incredible fear and wake up the next morning crying.

As I stood there at the doorway, this new surge of curiosity flowed right through me. I dunno; that “monster under the bed” was probably just the usual stuff kids tend to imagine, but I wanted to fulfill this silly curiosity so why not? I walked closer to the bed and took deep breaths. For some reason, being near it sent an eerie sensation up my back, but I tried to shake it away. With one heave, I lifted the whole bed and propped it against the wall. I was ready to laugh at myself for doing that for nothing, but horror washed all that away as I saw long, deep scratches against the wood. There were just so many to the point that some parts of the wood were already too thin and could break with just a single poke.

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I couldn’t believe it.

Gasping, I scrambled out the room and out of the house. I was about to enter my car when an elderly woman from next door called out to me.

“May I help you?” She said with narrowed eyes. Darn. She probably thought I was stealing something from the house. Wiping the sweat off my face, I awkwardly approached her.

“I was uhh… I used to live here. I was just checking out what’s new.” I half expected that she wouldn’t believe me, but then her eyes widened as if she recognized me.

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“Oh! Are you that little superman kid?” She made awkward little gestures that looked like dancing. “The one that always danced like this in the backyard?”

It was funny how the embarrassment was able to wash away the horror in a blink. Yeah, I remember that. “Y-yeah…”

“Oh my gosh you’ve grown so much!” She said all teary eyed and hugged me tight, then started mumbling things like she and mom were friends and they always came over. Only when she mentioned about a call that I realized she was the one mom was talking to yesterday.

“Did you decide to visit because I called yesterday?”

I glanced at the house, but this time, fear crept inside my heart instead of nostalgia.

“Yes, sort of… You said the family just moved out of here?”
“Yeah, they were such a nice family.” She said sadly as she followed my gaze. “Too bad they had to move away.”

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“Why did they move away?”

“Quite silly, actually.” She chuckled, but the sorry look remained on her face.”But I guess they’re just ready to do anything for their kids. The mom told me that their youngest daughter won’t stop whining over something for months. It stressed the parents so much and even their older daughter. They had to endure the little one’s whining, but then I guess they eventually got tired of it decided to move away.”

The same eerie feeling started to crawl up my spine once again, but I pushed on my curiosity and asked another question. But boy, little did I know that I’ll only regret that I ever asked that.

“What was the girl whining about?”

The older woman paused for a bit, as if to try to remember, but quickly returned her attention to me with a smile. “You know, just some usual children stuff. Someone scratching under her bed or something.”

Credit To – Euwonlol

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15 thoughts on “Scratch”

  1. It’s not about wanting stories worthy of being published so much as wanting a story that is, at the VERY least, readable. This story failed because it was incredibly difficult to read, and how so much of it was written so poorly that there wasn’t really any possibility of getting lost in the story. It’s one thing to not have a good plot or a good storyline; it’s something else when it appears to have been written by a 4 year old. (TBH, I’ve known quite a few four year olds in my time, and the majority spoke better than this was written) I don’t know why we should not be able to speak out about our true feelings regarding the stories here because it might hurt someone’s feelings. In the long run, it’s much worse to praise an author whose work is barely comprehendible, because at SOME point, somebody will come along and REALLY hurt their feelings. I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings, but I also don’t want to offer false praise, making the fall that much longer when it DOES happen. (Because it will at some point down the road.) If it were me, I would appreciate any criticism that was true. That’s not an insult as much as it is a real reaction.

  2. Despite why others say, I quite enjoyed the story. Yes, there was grammatical and spelling errors, but I assume from where they are, that English wasn’t your first language. Yes, you could edit onto this, though I’d frankly prefer to see a part two! Please do continue writing.

  3. All I read was the first paragraph and I got irritated. You need to go back to school and figure out how to construct your past present and future tenses correctly because your story makes no shred of sense and looks like a toddler wrote it.

  4. Allice Keely Brownfield

    This was great. Familiar, bit different enough to have me guessing at times. Even though we can still predict what may be coming at times it still gives a creepy vibe. 8/10

  5. I agree with the others. The poor sentence structure and plot line made this story difficult to endure. That and the lack of storybook fundamentals such as a conflict a climax and a resolve. All around bad story telling. Nice concept but terrible execution.

  6. There’s too much wrong with this story. The sentences are poorly structured. The grammar is horrible, and the tenses jump from past to present throughout, with no explanation.

    “I tried to opened the door, not really expecting it to be open, so I was surprised when it did open”

    That will give you an idea of the standard of writing that exists in this pasta. Wow

    Not to mention, the story makes little to no sense either. Why was all the furniture still there? Who moves into a house and keeps a stranger’s bed? Also, when a child complains about monsters, why would someone’s first reaction be to move out, yet dismiss any possibilities of it being real?
    This was boring and hard to get through. It had no climax and no logic at all

  7. I hate to say it, but the grammar and spelling is really difficult to get past, it takes you out of the story. Story-wise: It would help to change the house being sold to being rented- most houses don’t come furnished, and considering the length of time between the narrator moving out and then going back to look, things most likely would have changed…so it might be better story-wise to change the house to a furnished rental, and maybe consider mentioning how small the room is, how there is only one place for the bed to fit, or that the bed is built in, and it can’t be moved. Just some suggestions, that’s all. I actually liked it, it could be condensed and be a great “around the campfire” type tale for very dark nights!

  8. CapnGrapplingHook

    Really bland, predictable and poorly written. Even if you salvaged spelling and grammar, you would have unnatural dialogue, lack of detail, unreality (even creepypastas need some grounding or they ‘re not creepy) and nothing happens to the character to make this scary. I mean, why didnt the monster kill him instead of just scratching? Why would a kindly old lady call a young child’s terror ‘whining’ even if she didnt believe it she’d still be more likely to call it fear…

    how is this not a crappypasta?

  9. There was no climax! I thought that the neighbor would be the monster and that’s why she called the mom, to lure the boy back so she could get him. The same bed was still in the house so it would make sense if there was never a new family. That would have been a better ending.

  10. Elizabeth Walker

    Difficult to get though due to the bad grammar and awkward sentences. It could be developed into a good story I think. Maybe the monster was trying to lure back the original victim? Maybe the second family did not really move away, but vanished? That would explain why they left all their furniture. Maybe the protagonist could not remember these events because there was a confrontation with the monster, and it was to painful to recall? I think if you round out your plot and clean up the grammar and flow, this could be good. 3/10 for now.

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