Grimsley

I tell you, I'm not crazy, I'm insane, there's a difference. Firstly, I'll start by telling you my name, how old I am and what I can do.
I am Sam Grimsly Dorman. Two days ago I had my fourteenth birthday. I am five foot eight, black hair, with a fleck of blond and defined enough to cause some major harm. There are other things about me, but you're going to have to wait to know them. The one important thing, the only thing to truly understand, is that I kill. I do it for fun and it gets me excited. You may ask yourself how or why? Well, life's too short to keep secrets, so here goes. There are certain events of my birth date, where I discovered something about myself.
As usual, I woke up to another heavy day at school. I always dreaded school. It was so dull and boring, a rinse and repeat kind of thing. All I ever seemed to do was get dressed, go to school and come straight back home.
That day was different. It was my birthday. That special, magical time when you reach another milestone in your life! Oh, the joys of growing up!
As I headed downstairs, for the expected cards, presents and my usual cheerio with milk scenario, I didn't yet know what was going to happen at the end of it all. I smirked because, as expected, on the edge of the fireplace, there were the presents, sharply wrapped in cowboy paper. Woody waving to buzz in his happy, slappy, cowboy manner! Why my mom continued to treat me like a two year old is still unknown to me, but I rolled with it. I went back upstairs to wake my stepdad and mom up. I knocked quietly, no reply. I opened the door a little to see their sleeping forms. All was calm and sweet. I went back downstairs, and watched some TV until they woke up. Finally I got to unwrap my presents and eat breakfast with them like a real family.
I never had the usual things that other kids had, like an Xbox, or PS3. That was okay, because at least I had something, and my parents, 'loved' me.
School that day was good. PE was never the best subject. Don't get me wrong, I was good at it, but I got bored easily. Afterwards I had Math. I usually sat at the back, listening to my own thoughts which seemed so much more interesting that the nonsense coming from Mr Brian's mouth.
Thankfully, school gave us recess in between the monotony of the working day. I usually just hung around with my, 'friends'. I say that loosely, because I never felt equal, always separated from the crowd somehow. They never really knew me.
Chemistry was always a blast! I would sit next to, Mr Popular, AKA, Toby, I love myself, Crow! I have to say, he was always my favourite idiot of the day!
Lunchtime was the treat of listening to kids my age talking about their new phones, and gadgets, which I would never have. I would sit and pretend to be engrossed in my cheese sandwich wishing to be a part of the conversation.
Now, double English wasn't so bad, because I would sit and stare at Rayne Ellis. She was the coolest and most beautiful girl in the school. I would even go so far and dare to say she was my friend. She was the only individual who treated me as a human being. From the day we started school, she was the first person I sat next to and the one constant presence in my life after that.
The school day finally ended and I walked about 2 miles to get home. I lived in a farmhouse away from most of civilisation. The town close by was quiet and vacant by day. A place where you could be safe to walk by yourself. Time seemed to drift along like the people.
I got home to silence, dead silence, which seemed strange. There was always something happening in the house. The TV would be on, or my mom would be in the kitchen preparing something for me to eat. There was a sudden thump and a high pitched scream from upstairs!
I dropped my rucksack and took the stairs two at a time. Breathless, I ran towards my mom's room and pushed open the door. My stepdad was standing over my mom who was cowering on the floor. Her hair was caked in blood, her hands shaking as she tried to protect herself.
I ran over to where he stood, throwing myself at him, frantically kicking and punching him.
This kind of situation wasn't the first, and I knew it wouldn't be the last. My secret life, this life, away from it all. The cowboy wrapping paper sprang into my head. My mum, wanting me to still be her little boy, away from this crap, where he never existed. I understood at that moment that she was just as much to blame as him. Years she had let this happen. Years I had shut it out, locked the door, like she wanted me to and crawl under the bed as he would beat her half to death. Only she would be the one to crawl back to him. I hated it, I hated him and most of all I hated her for allowing me to witness the bloodbaths over the years. Her excuses and lies that things would change.
It would never change, but, on my special day, I changed and finally snapped. My inner demons, powers I never knew I had, surfaced. I stepped away from my stepfather, raised my hand and allowed electricity to pass through my fingertips. Things flew across the room at my will, hitting and spearing them both. They fell to the floor as finally death claimed them. A different type of silence surrounded me when it was all done. I stood there for the longest time, looking down and feeling nothing but utter relief. I knew then that this it was destined, inevitable. My life had turned as demonic power was born.
I finally ran out of the house and grabbed two of my stepdads sickles, feeling the strength in the steel as I gripped them tightly. I made my way towards the woods, frenzied but free. The fun had only just begun. Every moment of anger, every thought of what I had done would now increase my telekinesis power and my hatred for human kind.
The author still insists Grimsley isn't a Mary Sue because he has a tragic past. Tragic pasts count as a flaw, right? Heh heh heh heh, WRONG.
By the way, his "tragic past" appears to be nothing more than a persecution complex. Wah wah waaaaaah.
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:That just raises more questions!
Category:Old Shit