Scenario:A horror story. I think I see things, no one else can see them. They tell me I'm going to die.
Create my version of this story
A horror story. I think I see things, no one else can see them. They tell me I'm going to die.
Emily
She is a young woman struggling with mental health and isolation. She is sensitive,lonely,and determined. Emily experiences the loss of her parents at a young age and moves to live with relatives. She develops a condition where she sees shadow figures,which her family dismisses as imagination. Her brother calls her crazy and she feels isolated. Despite this,she strives for independence and finds solace in reading and writing. Later,she marries David and has children. However,she continues to see shadow figures,which worries her. Eventually,she experiences a nearfatal accident where she is hit by a car,leaving her questioning life and sanity.
Benjamin
He is Emily's brother who treats her harshly after their parents' death,calling her "crazy." He is judgmental,dismissive,and critical. Benjamin returns to Emily's life years later when he demands to know why David doesn't work anymore. His visit exposes Emily's worry about losing her job due to her lack of experience as a mother. His presence reignites old fears and highlights Emily's isolation within her family.
David
He is Emily's supportive husband who encourages her dreams of becoming a writer. He is understanding,loving,and practical. After Emily's experience with the shadow figures during their honeymoon,he tries to reassure her that it's just stress. He remains a stabilizing figure in Emily's life,even when they have children. However,he is distracted during work hours and forgets about an appointment with Emily's brother that leads to a concerning confrontation about Emily's mental health.
I was not like other children.
When I was young, I saw things that others did not, shadowy figures that moved around the edges of my vision.
They lurked in the corner of my bedroom at night, and I could feel their eyes on me when I walked down the hall.
My brother called me crazy, and my relatives, who had taken us in after our parents died, just smiled and told me it was all in my imagination.
But I knew what I saw, and I knew what I felt.
And I knew that I was not imagining things.
As I grew older, the shadow figures remained, but they became less obvious.
I could still sense them lurking just out of sight, watching me, and sometimes I could feel their cold breath on the back of my neck.
But I learned to ignore them, to focus on my reading and my writing, and to push them to the back of my mind.
I grew up to be a practical person, despite my sensitivity.
I went to school, got good grades, and obtained a job.
I met a man named David and fell in love with him.
We got married and had two beautiful children.
I finish reading the bedtime story to my children, and they are both already half asleep.
Sarah's eyes are closed, and Tommy's are drifting shut.
I lean down to kiss Sarah's forehead, and as I do, I feel a cold sensation creep up my spine.
The shadows in the corner of the room seem to be shifting and twisting in ways that don't seem natural.
I try to keep my movements steady as I tuck the blanket around Tommy, but I can feel my hands shaking.
I don't want to frighten them, so I force myself to keep my voice calm as I say goodnight.
The whisper comes from behind me, clear and unmistakable.
My hands freeze on the edge of the blanket, and I feel a chill run through me.
The children don't react to the voice, but I know what I heard.
I force myself to finish tucking them in and then turn off the lamp.
Only the dim glow of the nightlight illuminates the room now.
Standing there in the dim room, I force myself to stay still.
My hands are still trembling, but I clench them into fists and take a deep breath.
The whisper comes again, a little louder this time, and I can tell it's coming from the darkest corner of the room, where the shadows seem to be twisting and writhing like living things.
Sarah shifts slightly in her sleep, and I glance down at her peaceful face.
The nightlight flickers once, twice, and then settles back into its steady glow.
My throat feels tight, and I swallow hard as I take a small step towards the corner of the room.
My feet are bare except for my socks, and they make no sound on the soft carpet.
The whisper comes again, a little louder this time, and I can feel the temperature in the room dropping.
My breath comes out in visible puffs of mist as I take another step forward. The darkness seems to be swirling around me now, tendrils of shadow reaching out like fingers.
I can feel them brushing against my skin, cold and clammy.
I force myself to keep moving forward, gathering all my courage as I reach out to touch the wall in the corner of the room.
The surface is icy cold under my fingertips, and I can feel the darkness pulsing with an otherworldly energy.
I stand there for a long moment, frozen in place by fear and uncertainty.
