A week before my 8th birthday, I killed my younger brother.
We were playing star wars on the driveway. I sat in the car, he crawled under the car. The car was the millennium falcon, I pushed the e-brake to go into warp speed and it rolled backwards over him. I managed to jump out before it smashed into my step dad’s tool shed. I didn't even know how an e-braked worked. It was a steep driveway. It was an accident.
My brother coughed strange, gasped for air, tried to scream for help but only gargled wheezes escaped. Sounded like a cat coughing up a hairball. A broken rib had punctured his left lung and his spine was snapped. He looked like one of those circus contortionists, writhing on the ground. He died in the hospital later that day. He was 6 years old.
Mom had a severe nervous breakdown. She’d call me by my dead brother’s name, then when she realized I wasn't my brother she’d scream at me like I was an ax wielding maniac. I moved in with my biological dad after mom attempted suicide.
Dad wasn't a violent drunk, just irresponsible- he cheated on mom countless times. He never judged me for the accident. He didn't really care for my younger brother anyways, it wasn't even his kid, it was my half brother. My mom had him when she remarried. Dad let me stay up late and play video games. I liked him.
I made lots of friends in grade school but never kept any for more than a week. I was an odd kid. The kind of kid so weird, not even the school bullies picked on me. I think they pitied me. I almost wished they bullied me, hostility is better than indifference.
Things improved in college. I even sort of repaired my relationship with mom. She started seeing a therapist and got on prozac or something. I dated a nice girl and made a couple friends. College was alright.
Things got bad again about three years back. I got minor PTSD. It was weird because the accident had never really bothered me much until then. I mean it bothered me, but it didn't bother me. Like I never lost too much sleep over it, because it was an accident. But three years ago I started waking up with an overwhelming sense of dread. Like I was in a locked room and the walls were pushing in closer and closer. I could feel my dead brother in the room with me. I don’t believe in paranormal ********, but I do believe that memories are always a moment away, like one second ago is basically no different than 10 years ago. They’re both just chemical memories and they’re both equally real. Time doesn't fix things, it just distracts you. Anything could set off a panic attack. Seeing a steep road, hearing someone coughing, seeing a car etc.
I started blaming myself for the accident. I used to think people made up guilt after accidental deaths. Like if you killed a cat that ran in front your car, you’d pretend it was all your fault and say you felt horrible just to get pity from people- but deep down you knew you had nothing to do with it. The cat shouldn't have ran in front of your car. I never wanted pity so I never drowned in self blame- Until a few years ago. I genuinely believed it was my fault. Like I should have known that pulling the e-brake would roll the car over him. I felt awful, like it may as well have been intentional. I heard his gargled coughs ringing in my head at night. I told all this to a therapist and we worked it out, I feel better now. She was good at her job. I still tell the sob story of guilt to people though. I hate the pity, love the attention...
...To be honest with you, I've been bull******** this entire story. I've been telling people that story for the past few years to appear more interesting and more conflicted. I know that’s ****ed up. But mom only paid attention to my half brother. She could barely look at me- I reminded her of the drunk man that cheated on her and divorced her. When I was 6, she told me it was hard to love me because my eyes reminded her of daddy. She wasn't saying it to be mean, she was just being honest- It wasn't personal. But I wanted her to pay attention to me. I wanted her to love me.
I knew the brakes on that car were old, I knew how an e-brake worked, I knew what gravity did, I knew my brother was crawling under the car. It was a sunny day, it was a steep driveway, it wasn't an accident.
Sadako's Phone Number
090-4444-4444
The story goes:
This number is known as "Sadako's Number" and when you dial it you are supposed to be able to hear some strange, creepy noise, like "bwooo."
They say that the person who calls this number will meet some kind of accident within a week.
The number will probably only work in Japan, but you can try calling it by using Japanese country code +81
i remember getting creeped out when i first knew this,. i was like 10 years old that time lol
Wilson revealed to me that these were 7 of the 16 victims found burnt to a crisp. The gasoline is what the man playing Mr. Bear used to light them on fire. A pit full of burning children... who the **** would do that? That feeling of dread found me once again when I realized that I could have been one of those kids.
Wilson then explained to me that he had previously lied and the 4th tape owned by the Bramalea police branch did indeed work and contained the filming of the actual burning. However he felt that I wouldn't be able to handle the “Disturbing and graphic” nature of the episode. And you know what? Maybe I can't. I don't even want to see it. I'm satisfied for now, but I just need some time to get myself together. The thing is, the man who ran Caledon Local 21 is still out there.
Sadako's Phone Number
090-4444-4444
The story goes:
This number is known as "Sadako's Number" and when you dial it you are supposed to be able to hear some strange, creepy noise, like "bwooo."
They say that the person who calls this number will meet some kind of accident within a week.
The number will probably only work in Japan, but you can try calling it by using Japanese country code +81
i remember getting creeped out when i first knew this,. i was like 10 years old that time lol
A Romanian woman has claimed her dead grandmother has contacted her from beyond the grave – by sending her a selfie.
Gina Mihai, 34, said she found a picture of her deceased grandmother on her phone and believes her spirit is reaching out for help after a fortune teller said her grandmother was being punished ‘in the other life’.
Churches in Scurtesti in the south-eastern part of the country have been packed with locals praying on Mrs Mihai’s behalf.
‘When I switched the phone on I was horrified to see my dead grandmother’s face,’ she said.
‘She had what looked like a snake around her neck, and the whole image looked as if it had been taken through a hole, like it was shot through a tear in the fabric that separates the living from the dead.
She continued: ‘I took it to a fortune teller who told me that my grandmother was sending me a message from the other side, the snake around her neck was a symbol of the fact that she was being punished in the other life for some sin.
Mrs Mihai believes that she may be partly to blame for her grandmother’s punishment by not taking food to her grave – a traditional tribute paid during the Romanian feast of the service of alms."