The Silent Girl
Do you have a terrifying true story that sounds like something out of a horror movie? Home-made Creepypasta is now accepting submissions!
Do you have a terrifying true story that sounds like something out of a horror movie?
Home-made Creepypasta is now accepting submissions! Share your eerie, unexplained, or downright chilling encounters in the comments belowβ¦
The Silent Girl
When I was a child, we lived in a quiet neighborhood where everyone knew each other. A few houses down from us was a family with two childrenβa boy and a girl. I wasnβt particularly close with them, but I saw them often enough, playing in their yard or riding their bikes up and down the street.
But there was something strange about the girl.
She was always with someone. Not just her brotherβthere was another girl, always by her side. She was small, pale, with dark hair that hung limp around her face. She never spoke, never played, never even looked at anyone but the neighborβs daughter.
I assumed she was just a friend from another street, maybe a cousin visiting. But something about her unsettled me. She never laughed or smiled, never seemed to belong. The way she movedβalways just a step behind the neighborβs daughterβfelt unnatural, like a shadow that had taken on flesh.
I remember once, in the dead heat of summer, I was playing outside when I saw them sitting in the grass across the street. The daughter was talking animatedly, her hands waving as she told some story. The other girl sat beside her, motionless, staring blankly ahead. I watched for a long time, waiting for the second girl to react, to nod, to blink.
She never did.
As time went on, I realized something even stranger. No one else ever spoke to the silent girl. Not her parents. Not her brother. Not even other kids who came over to play. They would only talk to the daughter, as if the second girl wasnβt there at all.
One evening, I mentioned her to my mom.
βYou know, the neighbors have another little girl whoβs always hanging around their daughter.β
She frowned. βNo, they donβt.β
βYes, they do,β I insisted. βSheβs always with her. She has dark hair andββ
My mother cut me off. βSweetheart, they only have two kids. A boy and a girl.β
I felt my stomach twist. βBut I see her all the time.β
Mom just shook her head and went back to what she was doing.
Years passed, and I mostly forgot about the silent girl. It wasnβt until I was a teenager, sitting around with some friends, that her name came up again.
Someone mentioned the old neighbors, and I casually brought up the other girlβthe one who never spoke.
There was a pause. Then one of my friends, who had known the family better than I did, gave me a strange look.
βThere was no other girl.β
I felt a cold chill creep up my spine. βWhat do you mean? I saw her all the time.β
My friend hesitated. βYouβre not the first person to say that. A couple of other kids in the neighborhood asked about her too. But she wasnβt real. She was the daughterβs imaginary friend.β
I laughed, but the sound was hollow. βNo, thatβs impossible. I saw her with my own eyes.β
My friend shrugged. βHer parents used to freak out about it. She would talk to this βfriendβ all the time, whispering to her at night, setting a place for her at the table. But whenever they tried to ask about the girl, sheβd get upsetβlike really upset. Sheβd say things like, βShe doesnβt like when you call her imaginary.ββ
A sick feeling twisted in my gut.
Then my friend added one last thing.
βAfter they moved away, I overheard my mom talking about them. The daughter used to wake up with scratches down her arms. Deep ones. Almost likeβ¦ like someone was holding her down in her sleep.β
I stared at her, my mouth dry.
No one spoke for a long time.
That night, as I lay in bed, I couldnβt stop thinking about the silent girl. The way she stood just a little too still. The way her blank eyes never blinked.
And the way, even after all these years, I couldnβt remember ever seeing her leave.
Do you have a terrifying true story that sounds like something out of a horror movie? Home-made Creepypasta is now accepting submissions! Share your eerie, unexplained, or downright chilling encounters in the comments below, and your story could be featured on the blogβand in an upcoming book collection published by Mark Watson Books.
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Be Considered for the Book β The best, most terrifying stories will be chosen for an exclusive Home-made Creepypasta book collection, published by Mark Watson Books. Your name (or a pseudonym, if you prefer) will be included as a contributor.
This is your chance to have your true horror story immortalized in print. Submit nowβ¦ if you dare. ποΈποΈ
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