Face Your Fears…
Free Your Fears…
(a paid advertisment from your friends at the Skinner foundation.)
I wonder what Nathan is doing right now.
Nathan Wallows is my favorite singer. His voice is like a tormented angel pulled down to suffer in a tar pit. Haunted. He was fated to be trapped forever in my sticky black heart. Each song he sang resonated chords within me. It would be hard to convince me that each song he wrote and sang wasn’t written just so I could understand him better. That’s how much his body of work spoke to me.
Okay guys, let’s get some things straight. I’m on horror sites pretty often, and a friend told me about what’s been happening here on creepypasta. I’ve been looking through the last few days worth of posts, and I’m seeing some really disturbing stuff that I need to address. I’m Jenny Rogers; a normal, eighteen year-old high school student in my senior year. My SnapChat username is callme_469, and somehow my phone has been ruining people’s lives.
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I don’t like children which is unfortunate to my line of work…I call it work, but it’s torture really. If you are working a job that you hate, you always have the option of resigning…of opting out: of just deciding not to show up…
I’m suspended in the void, floating. Senses fail here, except hearing, which is fine because this is the nothingness; nothing to feel or see. It’s a quiet place–peaceful, like finding yourself adrift in space. Then a familiar voice reminds me to be afraid. I can’t see, but he speaks to me in harsh whispers near my ear, saying:
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