New Follower + New Story

Firstly, allow me to thank Millie Schmidt for following the blog. I hope you enjoy what you see.

Secondly, I just updated “The Infinite Guide”. Now, there are two new chapters to the story. To see them, click here.

Lastly, I wanted to share a brand new story that I am working on. The preface and the first two chapters are done. I’ll put them in its own page soon, but for now, here are the preface and the first chapter:

Preface: My Name is Mary…

Hi.

My name is Mary.

Mary Sweets.

You’ll have to excuse me. This is my first time on a site like this and I’m a little nervous. I just thought it was a good idea to start with my name; I didn’t know how else to start. Like I said before, I’m a little apprehensive about sharing my story. Nonetheless, I needed to tell my story to someone. When I discovered this site, with it creepy stories and bizarre anecdotes, I thought it would be the perfect place to write my story. I doubt that anyone would believe me, I mostly want to tell it just to prove to myself that it wasn’t make-believe; that it wasn’t all in my head. There’s another reason I’m writing this: I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget the most traumatic experience in my children that would ultimately lead me to my improvement as well as the six people who would become my best friends in the whole world. Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.

This story–my story–is going to be a long one. I would love to type this all in one sitting, but, due to forces that are beyond my control, I can’t. Consider this first post as a preface and the later posts as chapters. In hindsight, I should have just written a whole novel and send it to the nearest publishing agency, but, like I said before, I doubt that anyone would believe me. My story isn’t a sad one, nor is it a scary one. However, there are some parts of my story that are depressing and even disturbing. Consider this a warning: this story will contain violence, gore, vivid images of graphic scenes, the death of innocence, and other mature subject matter. If any of this doesn’t appeal to you, then I suggest that you stop reading. Listen to me, getting ahead of myself again. Sorry. I’ll just start from the beginning.

Like I said before, my name is Mary.

Mary Sweets.

Chapter 1: Before the Madnes

It was the thirty-first of May, in the year 2018. The school year was ending and autumn was slowly turning into summer. The once crisp, golden brown leaves that would fall from the tree branches became an almost radiant shade of green; some trees were even blooming lovely pink flowers. Tomorrow was the first of June and I would be turning twelve-years-old. The party that my class held for me earlier that day was good. “MARY SWEETS, COME OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!” The shrill, raised voice of my mother rung in my ears, but still, I didn’t move from my hiding place. In the far corner of the playground that was built behind my elementary school, were lush bushes surrounding a tall, wide oak tree. It was there where I seat, underneath the tall oak tree, hidden by the bushes.

I was a petite girl; only four feet tall and sixty-five pounds. I had pale green, round eyes, fair skin, and long black hair that was tied in twin ponytails by large, bright white hairbows. I had a petite nose, rosy cheeks, and a round face. I was wearing my favorite white, short-sleeved blouse under my favorite black denim overall skirt. I was wearing my favorite pair of white socks with black polka-dots and my favorite pair of black dress shoes.

“MARY SWEETS!” I heard the voice of my mother again. She was calling on for me to come out from my hiding spot. It was the end of the school day and the other children were gone. The only people left in the school were the janitors, some teachers, and my mother, who was looking for me. “MARY!” She yelled again. I didn’t move from my spot. I wasn’t a disobedience child, quite the opposite. I always did what I was told, I never acted out or throw temper tantrums, and rarely did I do anything that would be considered rebellious. It was just that, on that day, I wanted to be alone; I didn’t want her to see me cry.

Cool tears ran down my cheeks like rivers and I was trying my best to silent the sniffles and whimpers that was coming from my mouth. I wrapped both of my eyes with my hands, but so soon as the previous tears were gone, new ones took their place. I hugged my knees, which were pushed against my chest, with my tiny arms. “MARY!” My mother screamed again. I could tell that she was getting impatient and angry. I continued to cry and sob quietly. I was staring downward at the soil. Tiny insects, like worms and beetles, were crawling around my shoes. “MARY SWEETS!” I didn’t want to disobey her, but, at the same time, I didn’t want to come out. I just wanted to be alone with my tears. You might be wondering why I was crying. The reason behind my tears would become clear to you soon enough

“MARY!” My mother yelled again. “IF YOU DON’T COME OUT BY THE TIME I COUNT TO THREE, I’M CALLING YOUR FATHER!” My sobs suddenly stopped and grasp escaped my mouth. I could tell that she wasn’t joking; she meant what she said. If I didn’t come out in less than three seconds, I would only find myself in more trouble than I already was. “ONE!” My mother began to count. “TWO!” Finally, I begrudgingly stood and walked around the trunk of the tall oak tree, in clear view of my mother, who was standing in the middle of the playground. As she stomped toward me, I wrapped the remaining tears from my eyes, hoping that she didn’t noticed.

My mother, Susan, was a slender, beautiful woman. Like me, she has long black hair that fell from her head in curls and framed her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were the color of sapphires, big, round, and shimmering sapphires. She had an ample chest, suntanned skin, and full lips. She wore a black dress that stopped at her knees and hugged her body. Her black high heels were undoubtingly getting soiled in the grass and dirt. She was wearing a lot of make-up; pink eye shadow, pink lipstick, and pink blush on her cheeks. She grabbed me by my wrist and pulled to her side. “Don’t EVER hide from me again!” She said through clenched teeth, her eyebrows knitting at the center. “Especially when I’m calling you. Understand?” I feverishly nodded my head. “Good.” Her face relaxed, if only just a little. “Now let go home.”

With that, my mother dragged me toward our blue sedan, which was parked outside the front entrance of the school. My school was about twenty minutes away from my family’s house, thirty if you walked. My family and I lived in the suburban part of New Jersey-Hamilton to be exact- so everything wasn’t too far away. If we needed something, we would just hop in the car and drive there. I’ve never really been outside of New Jersey. I sat quietly in the passenger’s seat as my mother drove down the different streets. I watched from my window the many shops and family-owned businesses that we pass by. My mother didn’t speak to me until we were at the house.

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