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The Birds Are Singing

Estimated reading time — 9 minutes

I don’t like telling this story and most people don’t believe it when I do. It brings back too many painful memories, memories that I’ve been running away from since I was a ten year old boy. I’d been called a devil, a murderer, a child just desperate for attention. I’m forty now and I’m sure people still question my sanity. I even question my sanity. It’s been thirty years, but I will never forget what happened in that house, I will never forget what I heard, what I saw. I saw things and heard things that no living person should see. Things that would leave a scar that can never heal and things that would leave you questioning your sanity. I will warn you, this story, this true story is NOT for the faint of heart.

It was in Ohio, 1985, when we moved into the house. My mother was looking for a fresh start after my father’s abusive acts became too much for her to bear. He never touched me or my sister, Hannah, in any harmful way, but he and my mother would go at it almost every night. My mother would be left with a black eye and a swollen lip. I pretended like I didn’t know what was going on. I regret that now.

When we first arrived at the house, I could tell that it was really old. The windows were dusty, the paint was weathered and peeling off, and the grass stood almost as tall as I did. It looked abandoned, as if we were the first people to live there in decades. There was also an old swing set in the back and behind that, was a pond that held dirty water with a greenish color. The fence would creak as you open it, as did the stairs.


The first two months were silent, nothing was really out of the ordinary, but I noticed something that seemed strange to me. I was in the house looking through the window to make sure that Hannah was okay being alone in the backyard. She was on the swing set, but, oddly the swing next to her was moving back and forth, as if someone was there with her. But there was no one there, nobody but Hannah. I figured it was probably the wind. I went out there, because I didn’t want her out there alone. I was very protective of my sister. When I sent her inside, I stayed out there for about a minute and I thought maybe I was imagining things because I saw someone in the hallway window. They looked down right at me, I couldn’t really see their face. Maybe it was Hannah. Maybe it wasn’t.

It wasn’t really until the next night when things got frightening. Hannah’s screaming echoed through the house in the middle of the night. My mother and I woke up and quickly ran to her. It sounded as if someone were attacking her, but we didn’t see anyone. She was just screaming on the top of her lungs, pointing up at the ceiling.

“She’s trying to drown me!” She screamed more than once. We didn’t see anything but she saw something that night, something was there.

After that night, things started getting… weird. I’ve heard footsteps echoing through the house and I know this is going to sound weird but I’ve heard someone singing. It sounded like a young girl and I know it wasn’t Hannah because it sounded nothing like her. I was laying in my bed when I heard it. It must have been around midnight because everyone else was asleep. She sung it over and over again.

The birds are singing, singing, singing
Go to bed, go to bed
I’ll see you in the morning, morning, morning
Now rest your head, rest your head

It got louder and louder. It sounded as if they were coming toward me. They were getting closer and closer until eventually, they were right at my door. I heard water dripping. It sounds strange but I know what I heard. The singing stopped suddenly and all I could hear was the water dripping. Then everything became silent. The doorknob started turning just slightly. I hid under my covers and eventually whoever it was or whatever it was had left.


That wasn’t the only time I had a weird experience like that late at night. I’ve also heard whispers, most of the time I heard them coming from the basement. I never understood what the whisperer was saying, but one night I heard them loud and clear. I was asleep, I heard footsteps in my room. It felt like someone was watching me, like someone was sitting right at the edge of my bed. I lay there with my eyes closed, hoping it’d go away. Then it whispered.

“Who are you?”

I didn’t reply, I didn’t want to make a habit out of talking to things I couldn’t see. It sounded like a woman. I guess it left afterwards because I didn’t hear anything else. I was horrified by what was going on in the house. I tried to explain it to my mother, but she never believed me. She claimed I was dreaming and I almost believed that maybe I was dreaming. My mother seemed distant. She wasn’t the same person anymore.

I was worried about Hannah as well. She must have been traumatized by what she saw that night. I loved my sister, we did a lot together, but she became distant as well. One day as I walked passed her room, I heard her singing.

The birds are singing, singing, singing
Go to bed, go to bed
I’ll see you in the morning, morning, morning
Now rest your head, rest your head

I walked in her room, and she stopped singing. She was sitting on the floor, drawing as usual.

“Where did you learn that song from Hannah? I asked her.

“I learned it from my friend,” she replied, pointing towards the corner of the room.

I looked around the room, but I didn’t see anyone or anything. I noticed her drawing and it was really strange. She drew herself sitting on the swing and next to her, was another girl.

“Who is that girl you drew?” I asked her.

“That’s my friend, her name is Maddie.” I figured she had an imaginary friend. She was six years old, so that was normal, but that didn’t explain the song.

“Is she the one who taught you the song?”

She shook her head yes. “Her mother used to sing it to her every night,” she told me. “And she still does sometimes.”

“Well where is she now?” I asked her. She dropped her crayon and stood up off the floor.

“She’s behind you.”

It was then that I felt a cool breeze rush through my body. I turned around slowly just to see myself through the mirror that hung against the wall. That’s when I saw her. She was only there for less than two seconds, standing to the right of me and drenched in water. She looked young, around 6, the same age as Hannah. I wasn’t as scared as I should have been. I asked Hannah if she was the girl who was on the ceiling that one night. She said no and that the one who was on the ceiling was Maddie’s mother. She said that her mother was evil and that she would kill us if we told anybody about her. The same way she killed Maddie. I wasn’t scared until then. I wanted to tell my mother, but I’m sure she wouldn’t have believed me anyway. I just wanted to protect my sister, so I said no word about it to anyone. I didn’t really think that a ghost could do any physical harm, but I was ten at the time. I didn’t know much about ghosts. The only thing I knew about them was that they were people who were once living.

Later that day, I was walking pass the basement when I heard the laughter of a young girl. It sounded like Hannah so I walked down the stairs. She was sitting alone in the middle of the basement. “You shouldn’t be down here by yourself Hannah,” I said to her.

“I’m not by myself,” she said. She had one of those old jewelry boxes with the ballerina that would twirl and play music when you open it.

“What are you doing down here?” I asked her.


“Maddie wanted to show me her jewelry box.” I looked around. I didn’t see anybody, not that I wanted to. I felt very uneasy, like somebody was watching me. Somebody was there.

“We have to go now!” I yelled. “We need to get upstairs!” I just didn’t want to be down that basement.

“Shhhhhh,” she whispered. “You’re gonna wake her mother.”

“Get up Hannah!” I yelled. I heard a noise, it came from the other room of the basement.

Hannah started crying, I could see the fear in her eyes. She stood up on her feet, dropping the jewelry box. “Danny…” she cried, pointing behind me. “She’s behind you.”

My heart popped out of my chest. I remember shaking and my heart beating at a rapid pace as I slowly turned around. I froze in fear for a few seconds. She was there. She had long black hair and was wearing a black gown, her face was pale and her eyes were pitch black. It was like looking in the eyes of death itself. I grabbed Hannah and we ran upstairs to our mother. I wasn’t sure if she believed us, she told us to stay out of the basement and that was it. The face still haunts me to this day.

The Birds Are Singing

Hours after that frightening experience, I lay awake in my bed as I couldn’t sleep. It was past midnight so everyone else was asleep. I heard music coming from outside my room. I got out of bed, thinking that maybe it was Hannah. I peaked out my door, but I didn’t see anyone. I walked down the hallway and on the floor, in front of Hannah’s room was the jewelry box from the basement. I watched as the ballerina twirled around and around and around. Everything was like in slow motion, I became lightheaded. The air was cold and heavy. Somebody was watching me. I heard somebody singing, singing that same song. It was a young girl this time, it was a woman. The singing was coming from Hannah’s room. I opened her door, the singing stopped and I didn’t see anyone. Hannah was fast asleep. I asked her about it the next day, but she had absolutely no idea what I was talking about.

Weeks after that incident was when everything took a turn for the worse. Just like before, she was screaming, screaming on the top of her lungs in the middle of the night. We ran to her, my mother and I.

“She’s trying to drown me!” She screamed. “She’s trying to drown me!”

“Who?” My mother asked. “Who are you talking about?” Hannah stopped screaming and stood from her bed. She was shaking, her face was pale and her voice became weak. Her eyes were wide as she stood there, almost like she was frozen, like she couldn’t move.

“She’s behind the door,” she whispered suddenly, pointing at the door with a horrifying look in her eyes.



The door slammed shut and I found myself alone, outside in the hallway. They were screaming. My mother and my sister were screaming and there was nothing I could do. I tried to open the door, but it was stuck. LET ME IN! LET ME IN! I yelled, I kicked and I punched because that was all that I could do. They were screaming as loud as they could until suddenly…the screaming stopped.

“Mom! Hannah!” I screamed out. No answer. They were dead, my mother and sister were dead. That was all I could think.

The birds are singing, singing, singing
Go to bed, go to bed
I’ll see you in the morning, morning, morning
Now rest your head, rest your head

It sounded like my mother. I heard the door unlock from the other side. I opened it slowly to find my mother sitting at the side of the bed, singing to Hannah who was fast asleep. She then stood up, I saw the emptiness in her eyes as she walked by me, as if I weren’t even there. I was beyond confused. It just didn’t make any sense.

I woke up the next morning to a loud noise coming from the kitchen. I ran downstairs to see my mother making breakfast, soaking wet and singing that damn song.

“Why are you wet mother?” I asked. She said nothing. “Where’s Hannah?”

“Who are you?” She whispered.

“It’s me mother. I’m your son.” She looked at me, staring into my eyes as if she were stealing my soul. She smiled, a crooked evil smile I never saw before.

“I don’t have a son,” she said. “Now run along, Maddie isn’t available.”

She walked down the basement and closed the door. After less than a minute, I heard a loud noise that echoed from the basement. I ran upstairs to Hannah’s room, searching everywhere for her. She wasn’t in there. I walked out into the hall and that’s when I saw her walk down the stairs. I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought she was dead. I chased after her, she led me outside, but I lost her as I shuffled through the tall grass. I ran to the backyard, thinking she might be playing on the swing set. I didn’t see her, but the swings were both swinging rapidly. I heard laughter, it sounded like two young girls, one of them actually sounded like Hannah but I couldn’t see anyone. I walked behind the swing set and that’s when I saw her. She was floating lifeless, faced down in the pond. I heard her voice as it echoed with the wind…she was singing.

The birds are singing, singing, singing
Go to bed, go to bed
I’ll see you in the morning, morning, morning
Now rest your head, rest your head

Credit: Anonymous

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25 thoughts on “The Birds Are Singing”

  1. I read a story like this in a short horror story at a camping trip man me and friend scared the shit out of my boyfriend and his little sister but it was totally worth it i am sorry it was good but i red it before thanks for a good chill though totally worth it!


    About an hour later, she wakes up again, and hears the same noise. She’s kinda pissed off and goes to check it out again. Except, now the noise is from downstairs. She tracks it down into the guest bathroom in the main entry hall (my parents house has, like, 4 bathrooms). She opens the door and……

  3. I literally could not enjoy this story because of all the grammatical errors. If you submit a story at least proof read it first, it had a nice plot and ok ending, but the word choices and writing itself took away from that. Honestly seems like it was written and submitted without a second thought 5/10 for effort.

  4. This is really creepy. Though I must admit that this pasta is quite cliche. But, overall, this story is really good, and it was detailed and explicit. i had a good time reading this. :)

  5. Amy Duncan Mendez

    How is that creepy? I’ve heard and I’ve also seen worse in a ghost, so this story is very weird compared to my one and only true breathtaking and heart stopping story

  6. Halfway through the story I literally opened a new tab to look up “Hide and Clap” because I couldn’t remember if the movie was The Conjuring or not!

  7. This story was overall well written descriptive, but it seemed predictable and some of the scares were very cliche. The ending was a nice twist but it wasn’t very creepy.

      1. Deedeephoophee

        “-“She’s behind the door”, she whispered suddenly, pointing at the door with a horrifying look in her eyes.

        The door slammed shut…-”
        Basically completely ripped an identical scene …that’s when I stopped any respect or rating for this story whatsoever, and i’m someone who doesn’t like harsh reviews…but taking a basic outline/plot of a movie is one thing, but not being imaginative enough to even twist it from THERE?
        Come on, you’ve already nabbed yourself a head start by taking the template to build around (evil female entity terrorising family) at least try to be original from there, you’d think?

        1. Not everyone has seen that movie, and its very well possible that its just a coincidence, you can’t expect every single pasta to have something NOT similar to all the other works in the world.

        2. Well obviously you haven’t saw it either, as I chose to pick one example out of many, many more, that are in the exact same order of the occurrences on the movie. Your argument is ridiculous. Yes, yes I can expect to go on a site for original scary stories and expect them to not be practically a copy/paste of a screenplay.

        3. Well…
          Creepypasta is essentially just a scary copypasta, no? It was built on the premise to have scary stories copied from around the interwebs and stored in a centralised location. Sure, some are original… But the majority are copied from somewhere.

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