`scarlet_nyx` [Thread]

Alright, here's my story concerning a friends house, her mothers death,
and Lake Placid with whiskey shots.

Long ago in a suburb far far away, I had this awesome friend. Lets call
her L. Now, L was the complete opposite of me ; I was going through a
"goth"/dark phase and ( to this day ) can barely boil water. She on the
other hand loved soft floral colors and cooking awesome meals. I was the
Marceline to her Princess Bubblegum, except she was crazy smart in the
art department.

She loved books, same as me. Her favorite story for a time was " The
Phantom of the Opera". She read the book several times, watched all the
movies ( including the [weird as hell one] with Robert Englund as the
Opera Ghost ) and read all of the fan theories ( he was real! He had
Treacher by Collins Syndrome! His children still live below French
streets! ). Needless to say, she was hooked.

One day, she calls me in a frantic. While sitting in her bedroom doing
stuff, the very secure mirror hanging from her door just dropped
straight down and cracked right down the middle. No one else was home,
no large going by her home, etc. I calm her down and assure her that hew
newish house is simply settling, but all she could talk about was how "
Erik is here". I brush it off as fangirl fever and promise to talk to
her about it at school the next day.

This goes on for awhile with her saying she feels things around the
house, especially when she plays music of any kind. I am finally over at
the house one day to feel this - again, no one else was at home, no one
drove past, etc. She started playing music and the whole air just
felt... Heavier. Like this perfectly new house with huge bay windows
wide open had been shut up for years. There was a sour taste on my
tongue, much like when you start cleaning out a closet and there's a
weird sour, but dirty taste? I know its just the power of suggestion,
but it was so weird on a bright, sunny day with the windows wide open.

Over the years, we sadly drifted apart. Long story on that front. But,
it all kinda started with her mothers death. Blah blah, long illness,
family spirals down into self destruction, blah blah. One day, after my
friend had ran away from all of her issues to live in a state that most
people forget exist, I was over at her old house with her brother and
girlfriend. We were babysitting the house while her father got wrapped
up in a golddigger lady.

So, we're sitting in the living room doing whiskey shots and watching
Lake Placid. We were toasty, but not drunk at all. Also, I sort of
happened to be sitting and later sleeping on the same couch her mother
died on. For a horror movie fan, that was a horrible choice.

After the movie ends, we were all pretty tired. They both offered my
friends old room, but I had too many memories in there and would not
have had a good nights sleep. So, forgetting the hundreds of hours of
movies I've seen, I elected to sleep on the couch. that her mother died
on. In a house I suspect but don't want to admit something is fucky
with.

I manage to dose off with warm thoughts of giant crocs in my head.
Around dawn though, I wake up completely unable to breathe. As my eyes
are flung open in a state of primal terror, I notice a long, spindly
black "shadow" creature with its hand around my throat/pressing my
chest. Every breath was torture. This goes on for what seems like hours
but, is really only a few moments. Then, I remember my meditation
training. At the time ( and now, but at the time as well ) I was/am very
much into "modding" my conscious state. I calmed my animal instincts,
stilled my flailing arms, and asserted my divine nature as a being on
this planet.

To my shock ( because lolhippieshit) the shadow immediately "dropped"
me, walked AROUND the coffee table to my right, and stopped at the
doorway to the kitchen. It then turned around, smiled at me, and walked
into the kitchen while still facing me.

Later on, my friends told me they heard me scream out for them. But,
they couldn't get to me due to their door not opening, even with both of
them pushing and ramming themselves onto it. That was the last time I
went over to that house.

  [Thread]: https://reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/2hqjp8/stories_creepypasta_are_great_but_does_anyone/ckvdmn3/
  [weird as hell one]: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Phantom_of_the_Opera:_The_Motion_Picture