Anyone up for CreepyPasta?

[Sergey]

You want more? Time to get to level 1.2!

I guess I'll share mine. I grew up out in the middle of nowhere in Missouri, lots of woods and such. When i was about 9ish, I can't remember my exact age at the time, but anyways!

My cousin, my brother, their friend, and I were all riding in a car down the backroads, and their friend told us about this really old Civil War home that was made out on this tiny dirt road we were driving on, apparently the whole family had moved out waaaaaay long time ago in the late 1800's because of some kind of supernatural occurences that happened inside the house.

Anyways we go down the road, and its a dead end road once you get to the end. Its was also very ominous road with trees hanging low over it and the trees branches reaching down onto the road like arms. This made it kinda dark even at day time.

So, we kept going down the road til we spotted the house about 200 feet off the road out in the middle of the woods, and it had the classic haunted house look and feel to it. Broken wooden doors, broken windows, boarded doors and the like.

Well my brother had an old ripped Tshirt on it was reddish, well he was getting hot and he didnt really want the tshirt anymore so he got out while we were stopped on the road next to the house and walked about 50 feet into the woods and put the shirt on one of the overhanging branches, he also made sure it wouldnt fall off, kind of like a landmark if you will.

My brother gets back in the truck and we continue our way down the road to the dead end so we can turn around. It was about 2 more miles down the road til we could turn around so we lost sight of the house. We turn around and come back up the way we came, all the way looking for the house....we passed where the house was supposed to be...but it wasnt there.

At this point we ALL were freaking the hell out, because the house was just there. After where we passed where the house was supposed to be, i looked back, no one else did, just me. All i saw sitting where the house was a figure that i coudnt make out, because of the speed we were going, all i know is that it was holding my brothers red shirt.

[Sergey]

Fast but good one:

There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After a what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was suprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.

Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.

[Sergey]

I'm gonna copy this one down, no point in writing it again.

I don't know what to do anymore. Iâ??m so scared and I can't trust anyone. I went camping about 3 weekends ago in the Huntsville national forest in Texas. Me and 3 friends that came home for the weekend, they are all in college and usually we all get together at least once a year, old friends from high school. For the camping trip we planned to go backpacking deep in the forest, live off of fish that we catch and animals that we can trap. We have been doing this for awhile in Texas and in numerous places, Arizona, Colorado (if anyone is familiar with the Spanish peaks there), New Mexico, so weâ??re pretty much used to anything youâ??d encounter out there. It was my turn to pick where we went camping, so I chose Huntsville (more accurately itâ??s Huntsville/New Waverly). So we drive up there park our car in a camping park spot and start walking off into the forest. We had some laughs along the way, everyone catching up with each other's lives. We walked until it started to get dark and set up camp where we stopped. Everyone gathered wood to make a fire and we set our tent up. And we do what we always do: try and scare each other with weird stories.

Around this time we started to smell something very faint. It was noticeable, but not overbearing. We couldn't put our finger on what it was, so we just carried on. Mike had to go piss and he walked off in the forest. A second later he come running back, piss all down his jeans like heâ??d missed really bad. Immediately we all crack up and throw some jokes at him. Then we noticed that he was white as snow and trying to catch his breath. He starts screaming for us to follow him, and runs off.

We all get serious and go follow him, not knowing what the problem was. We start to hear a faint scream and crying in the distance, in the direction we were running. It was pitch black away from the camp and Mike had the only flash light (we left ours at the camp, he had his from his trip taking a piss), so at this stage we didnâ??t have much choice but to follow the light, which was frantically pointing here and there in front of him.

The scream gets closer and Mike starts to slow down. We then notice a ratty old cabin that looked like it was abandoned, except for a faint light that we could see from one of the old mildew covered windows. The crying was intense: whoever it was couldn't breathe enough to let out a full yell. We all followed Mike up to the front door and we could all hear the crying from inside. As soon as he knocked on the door it stopped. We all waited and heard really heavy footsteps walking fast to the door. There was a giant slam against the door and the sound of a bolt unlocking. Then nothing. We waited for a bit, knocked a few more times, but still nothing happened. We walked around the house (there was no ##*@ing way any of us were leaving each otherâ??s side) and noticed a window, which was a good way up. Alex took a deep breath and said asked us to give him a boost so he could see inside. Me and Mike lifted him up to the window. We watched him brush away dirt and webs from the window and place his face close to the window to try and see something.

There was a quick beat. Then suddenly he breathed in fast and let out a loud scream. Then he fell back from the window, screaming bloody murder the whole way. We all tried to calm him down but he was hysterical. We went to him but he started to shake, punch, kick, you name it, and then took off towards the camp.

None of us wanted to be separated so we all ran close behind him. We caught up to him and grabbed him and set him down. The fire was dying out so I grabbed some nearby wood that we collected added it to the fire. My hands were shaking and I had to do something. I went back to Alex and we all tried to calm him down. He wouldn't he kept screaming and was breathing so hard that he eventually fainted.
All of us are terrified now, and we all kept the fire high until sunrise. Periodically Alex kept waking up, screaming just like before. By sunrise he was up and looked catatonic, just mumbling to himself and whimpering. Me and Mike decide to go look at the cabin now it was daylight. We searched where we thought it was, except there was nothing there. Nothing at all. The indistinct smell from last night had now grown into a very strong smell of something dead, something stale. We headed back to the camping site. When we got there we found Alex had chewed into the sides of his face and swallowed so much blood that he was throwing up. John was at his back, and he looked like he was about to die from exhaustion. I guess we all looked that way, I just didn't notice until I saw his face. Alex said quietly that we need to leave. Now. ~We all started to pack up the tent. It started to rain really heavily (it was about noon) and the sky started to grow really dark. Alex started to go into a panic. He went and grabbed a big stick and yelled at us to leave it and leave, now, or heâ??d knock us out and drag us out of there himself. Mike started to yell at him, and they started to fight. We broke it up and finished packing, and then started to make our way back. After a little while we arrived at a creek we had crossed the previous day, only it was flooded over, and the water was moving to fast for us to cross it. Alex started to scream again, yelling at Mike for taking his time packing up the tent when we could have gotten out of here. This went on for a while until we finally convinced Alex to calm down and tell us what happened. He said as soon as he put his face to the glass, a face on the other side did the same thing, and started to smile really big. It had dark eyes and a dark mouth which was much bigger then Alex's, as the smile got as large as it could. A giant shadow behind it swung something down and sliced itâ??s face off. The face was stuck to the window, and he said it started to laugh quietly as it slid down. Mike, still pissed off (and though he wouldnâ??t admit it, beginning to get freaked out), started to argue with him again. We eventually started to follow the creek for a way to cross.

We then started to see toys floating in the creek. Really old toys, old Barbie dolls and baby dolls. This wasn't like any old trash floating in the creek, thoughâ?¦ this was a lot of barbies, a lot of baby dolls. One washed towards the side and Mike picked it up. It had some kind of voice chip that was dying and started to say some gurgling words we couldn't understand, followed by itâ??s sad excuse for laughter. Then it sounded like it was whispering. We thought the batteries must be dying, he threw it down.
We kept going, and the sun was starting to set. Alex was freaking out more now, and was whimpering and breathing heavily. We all started to see shadows move behind trees, something we all called BS on until we all were seeing it. It was barely light out and we stop as we see the cabin right in front of us. None of us knows what to think. Mike says â??This is bull, Iâ??m going in there.â? Alex tries to stop him. We all do, all of us just wanted to go home. Mike says to all of us to *** off, do our own thing, he doesn't care anymore, this is all bull. We start to hear hundreds of the same sort baby doll as before, laughing, whispering and trying to sing. We start to move forward past the cabin, all of us, and kept pushing forward. We smelled something dead in the air, something stale. The same something as before.

We started to hear something crying, and something screaming. We kept on going. We eventually crossed the creek and left the woods. We get back to our vehicle and got in. Its pitch black, and we drive. We are about to get on the 45 to Houston but the road is under construction and can't be accessed. It points to a detour. As we head towards the detour it seems to be small, bumpy dirt road going into the woods.

We then see a young girl come up to us. She looks like she was in trouble, young and pretty. She approaches the passenger side door and she looks like sheâ??s really drugged up, or beaten up. Alex doesn't roll down the windows, nor does he open the door. She reaches for the handle and he immediately locks it. She puts her face on the window and starts to smile really big. We floor it, Alex starts to cry and scream and we are all breathing heavy. We finally cut on a street that takes us to the 45 and we take it the whole way. When we get back to my apartment everyone doesn't know what to say and we all break apart and go our separate ways. Mike messages me later and says he is going to go back. I try to convince him not to and all he does is say it was our own minds that were screwing with us. I think he just went to prove to himself he wasnâ??t scared. I can smell that stench everywhere now. I don't go out anymore, I just stay in and don't answer the door. Last week everyone I met was acting really strange, people that I knew for a long time and total strangers. My own dad, when I went to his place to eat supper with him he just watched me, strangely, when I was sitting down. He didn't say a word the whole time. I kept asking him â??Whatâ??s wrong?â? He just slowly shook his head. When I was leaving to go home I turned to wave. He had black eyes and an open mouth like he was in pain. When I started to walk back he shut the door and bolted it. I stayed there knocking and knocking. Nothing. I called him, his phone was disconnected. I even called the police. Halfway through the questions they were asking me the connection started to fade into static. I could hear a faint mumbling, singing and laughing. ~

~ Mike has completely vanished. There is not even a record of him being alive. When I call Alexâ??s house they talk to me like Iâ??m some salesman. They say they don't know any Alex and to please stop calling. The person who tells me that is Alexâ??s mother. I canâ??t get a hold of John. Someone knocked on my door and when I went to look I saw a face completely covering the peephole and a giant smile started to form. I called the cops again and instead of it turning into static they got really strange. â??Sir, are you affected by any drugs at the moment?â? â??No.â? â??Are you coming home anytime soon?â? â??Excuse me?â? â??Come home.â? and the phone call ended. My mail slot swings every now and then. Someone is sliding pieces of baby dolls through it. I try to call people now and all I can hear is static and bad baby doll noises and this crying and screaming. My TV is busted but when I go to piss I can hear it on. I might be going insane.

THIS WAS MY LEVEL 2 HORROR, YOU MADE ME WASTE JUST FOR YOU!

[Sergey]

And I am always with you.

I was there from the time you were born. I stood in the delivery room, staring down at you before you could even open your eyes to see me. Your parents, relatives and doctors couldnâ??t see me there, in the corner, watching you with cloudy eyes, but I was there from the time you were born.

And I followed you home.

I was with you always, your constant companion. You played with your toys alone while I stared from all angles in nearby mirrors; my matted, clotted hair with oily sweat that hung off my dented forehead like glue. I was always your constant companion, drifting behind your motherâ??s car on your ride to preschool. You alone in the bathroom, but I was on the other side of the door, wind whistling through the bruised hole in my throat. My arms twisted and hanging in their sockets as I stood hunched on the other side of the shower curtain. I wait and follow you. I follow and drift behind you.

Iâ??m not seen. Iâ??m almost not-there in light. You never saw me that morning as I sat across from you at the breakfast table, a shiny red clot hanging from an empty tooth socket as I gaped grotesquely at you. I wonder sometimes if you know Iâ??m there. I think you are aware, but youâ??ll never understand just how close I am.


I spend hours of your day doing nothing more than breathing in your ear.

Breathing â?? gagging, really.

I crave to be close to you, to always wrap my crippled arms around your neck. I lie near you ever single night, cloudy eyes staring at your ceiling, underneath your bed, at your sleeping face in the dark.

Yes. You caught me staring occasionally. Your parents came running down to your room one night when you screamed. You were just beginning to talk, so you were only able to cry out â??Man! Man in my room!â? You thought youâ??d never forget the sight of me, with my collapsed jaw hanging to my chest, swinging back and forth. I sank back into your closet and your mother was unable to see me though you pointed and pointed and pointed. You thought youâ??d never forget when they left that same night. You saw the closet door crack so softly and me crawling across the floor to your bed on all fours, shambling in jerking movements as I pushed myself under your bed on disjointed limbs.

You learned a new word for me: boogeyman. Not quite the monster you thought I was. Iâ??m just waiting and following you always, touching your face with my knotted fingers as you sleep.

Youâ??ll see me again soon. Any day now, Iâ??m coming, blunt and brutal. One day youâ??ll walk across the road and â?? I believe Iâ??ll plow into you with loud roar and a screech.

You rolling on the pavement, rolling under wheels, bluntforce metal fenders and my fingers touching your face again and again.

As you stare up from the cold pavement with cloudy eyes; your matted, clotted hair hanging in your face and your jaw unhinged and swinging to your chest.

Youâ??ll see me approaching.

No one else will see me. You will stare past them into my eyes and Iâ??ll leer down at you. For the first time in our life, something like a smile will come over my face. Youâ??ll swear youâ??re looking into a mirror as clotted red bubbles from our mouths.

Iâ??ll lean down, past the doctors and the oogling people and pick you up in my crooked arms.

Our faces will touch. My wings will unfurl. And then youâ??ll have to follow me.

And I am always with you.

I am your guardian angel.

[Lewis]

A young man and his new bride were honeymooning in Paris when his wife went into a restroom and didn't return. With time the man began to fear the worst and went to the police. The police thought it was most likely the girl simply had second thoughts about the marriage, but they checked it out anyway and found no evidence of foul play.

As weeks turned into months the man finally gave up on finding his beautiful wife, but his life fell into a shambles, he was so filled with grief.

Unable to hold a job or go on with his life, he took to wandering the world looking for anything that might ease his pain. Years later in Borneo he came upon a freakshow in an old shabby building, he went in on a whim. In the last filthy cage he saw a twisted, scarred and mutilated woman rocking back and forth and groaning strange animal-like noises. He screamed as he recognized the birthmark on his wife's face

Molto Bene Sergey! I salute you! Very good stories. This one reminds me of the ending to Freaks, look at the 1:05 bit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TeYWV9HUuoA

[Sergey]

During the war a soldier faithfully wrote his mother every week so she would know he was all right, until one week she didn't get a letter and immediately began to worry. Within a couple of weeks she got a letter from the Army saying that her son had been captured and was being held in a Prisoner-of-War camp, and they assured her that they had no reason to believe the American prisoners were being mistreated in any way. A few weeks later the woman finally received another letter from her son, it read: "Dear Mom, Try not to worry about me, they are treating us well and I'll be released as soon as the war is over. Make sure that little Teddy gets the stamp for his collection. Love you, Joe" The woman was overjoyed to hear the news, but was confused because she had no idea who "little Teddy" was. She decided to steam the stamp from the envelope and have a look. When she did she saw that written on the back of the stamp were the words: "They've cut off my legs".

[Sergey]

http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc24 ... /dress.jpg


Uh, sorry... if I break the rules, but what is this? I'm too scared to click the link. Not trying to scare anyone, because I'm scared of touching it!

[Sergey]

There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After a what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was suprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.

Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.

[Sergey]

RESPOND! You want more stories don't you?

[Earl]

Yes, Sergey! We definitely want more stories! Please give us more! Give us more, I tell you! Give us more!

[Lewis]

Please, sir can I have some more?

[Earl]

Oliver!

[Sergey]

I was through hiking the Appalachian Trail last year, when I got lost and found myself off the trail, in a strange, dark hollow with heavy moss and one running stream. It was getting dark, and starting to rain. I found a cave just above the creekbed, and there were no bear-tracks, so I went in for shelter.

Sometime in the night, a bear DID come, right into the cave, and I had no way out! Keeping my head, I crawled deeper into the cave and found a passage too small for the bear to fit. It led to a long crawlway ending in a little alcove.

I had no light, and was terrified. But the sound of the bear in the bigger room faded away. This new room was cozy, with what felt like mounds of soft moss and crackly leaves all over the floor. A breeze blew through, and the leaves, though I couldnâ??t see them, seemed to move all over, they tickled me all night long, making it hard to sleep.

The next morning I crept back out to see if the bear was gone - he was. So I exited back into the hollow. I had a terrible rash all over my body from the itchy bedding I had slept on, and couldnâ??t stop scratching as I gathered my stuff and went down the creek looking for a road and some directions back to the trail.

I found another trail along the creek, and in a few hours, it ended at a dirt road. There I rested, trying to decide which way to walk for help. My skin was bleeding in spots now, and pustules were forming at the itchiest places. I thought I might need some cream or something.

A Game Warden jeep came around the bend, and when the Warden saw me sitting at the trailhead, he stopped.

â??You planning on going up there?â? he asked, gesturing up the trail I had come down.

â??No, actually-â? I began, but the itching on my skin made me stop short to scratch.

â??Well, if you are, just stay the hell clear of Spider-Nest Cave.â?

[Sergey]

I was exhausted. I had just gotten home from another day of forced monotony that we call a job. I wanted nothing more than to kick back with a cold beer and watch the hockey game. I walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer before shambling to the entertainment room. Still warm. Damn. I sat down in my comfiest recliner. The footrest sprung up, and I pushed the back down far enough so I could just see the TV. I grabbed the remote and hit the power button. The TV flickered on, filling the room with the sound of hockey. It wasnâ??t the same without the cold beer.

I reluctantly sat back up and got out of my chair, and made my way to the stairs leading up to the attic.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the dark, musty room, thick with the stench of mold. I grabbed the flashlight that I kept by the attic door and clicked it on. I made my way around all the boxes, coming to the back of the attic. There I found the fuse box. I set the flashlight down and began to tinker with the fuses. A bit of light caught the corner of my right eye. I thought nothing of it, being too predisposed with my task. I finished fixing the fuse and turned to my right to grab the flashlight. But it wasnâ??t there. I put the flashlight down with my left hand. Thatâ??s when it hit me. Where did that light I saw come from? I recollected the flashlight and walked to the right of where I was. It didnâ??t take me long. I came to the side of my attic, where a crack in the wall was shining a brilliant white. I thought that maybe this was the end of my house, and the crack led to outside. But that was impossible. There was way more house below this light, and it couldnâ??t lead outside. It was nighttime.


I should have walked away, forgotten about it. Hell, if it was the middle of the day I probably would have. But my curiosity got the better of me. I used the butt-end of the flashlight to hammer through the wood where the light was emanating from. The larger I made the hole, the brighter my attic got. Soon, the hole was large enough for me to crawl through. I steeled myself before sticking my head through the hole. I came out in a room much like my rec room at home, but lit up by beautiful sunlight. I stood up and looked around. First thing I noticed was it was perfectly clean. Not a thing out of place, no dust anywhere. The second thing I noticed was the window. I walked over and looked out. What I saw was amazing. It was a small little village. Small houses placed close together. I figured I was crazy. I went back through the hole and shoved a box in the way to block the light coming through. I went back downstairs to my entertainment room and turned on the hockey game.

I forgot about the hole for weeks. My life was pretty normal. I followed the usual routine of work and friends, and when the hole did cross my mind, I passed it off as a dream. But the thoughts became more and more frequent. I became less and less sure of the idea that the hole was a dream. I had to go back.

I decided that tonight was the night I go through the hole again. Iâ??ve been preparing myself for days. I know I canâ??t do this, but I know I have to. I work my way slowly to the attic and slide the box out of the way. Yes, the hole is still there. I was hoping it wasnâ??t. But I knew I had to go on. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled forward through the hole. I found myself one more in that same room again. I walked to the window to see nothing had changed. Everything was still the same. I wanted to go outside, to explore, but there was no door. I slid the window open and dropped down onto the perfectly manicured grass. I decided to go left. I just walked. I wanted to know what this place was.

I actually passed a few people on the streets as I went. They smiled and waved. Perfectly friendly. I passed a library, a hospitalâ?¦ all perfect. Clean, fully functionalâ?¦ It was amazing.

That was a month ago. Iâ??ve been living here ever since. But recentlyâ?¦ Iâ??ve been feeling different. Seeing things I know arenâ??t there. Horrible images. Images you should not see. Images I cannot even begin to describe. Iâ??ve also been struck with an insatiable thirst for bloodshed. For flesh. For death at my own hands. I crave the feeling of entrails wrapping around my hands.

I went to the library and looked at a book of the towns history. What I sawâ?¦ Oh god. Every forty years, the town entices one member of our world to theirs. This person is charged with the task of venturing into their world, and receiving all the accumulated evil from the last forty years. Their world is allowed to exist in perfect harmony at the expense of one of ours.

Butâ?¦ I canâ??t cope with this anymore. These images. This thirst. Thisâ?¦ primal hunger for death. I donâ??t want to do this. I think Iâ??m ready to come homeâ?¦

Excerpt taken from the Journal of Jeffrey Dahmer, 1978.

[Sergey]

I used to use the computer a lot. I would stay up late just surfing the web, playing games Iâ??d beaten long ago. I guess it became an obsession. It got so bad that I would stay up till midnight just doing nothing. I tried to stop. Sometimes I could manage to go to sleep early, but lately Iâ??ve never been in bed before eleven.

Itâ??s weird, I never feel like this during the day. I can handle not being on the computer in the morning. I get lots of stuff done; cleaning up, studying, pretty much being a productive person.
But now things have gotten worse.

I started feeling really bad after going to sleep. It would hit me while I was on the computer that my eyes were really burning. Only when they started tearing up would my gaze be broken from the screen and realize I hadnâ??t been blinking. Weirder things started happening when I blinked too.

It started out harmless. Web pages would load real slowly. My mouse would freeze. Programs would start ending randomly. Nothing actually out of the ordinary. I would just refresh the page, reconnect the mouse, and press end now.

But it got worse.

I got on the computer one night to find it was completely shut down. I always suspend the computer when I log off, so this struck me as odd. When it started up again, it entered safe mode. After fiddling with the settings, I finally got it working again. For maybe two weeks things went on without a fuss.
I was browsing a blog, just slowly reading and scrolling down when a picture showed up. It was one of those awful pictures of a dead body, like, someone who had been in a car crash or explosion. It wasnâ??t a pop-up or anything. It was part of the blog. I was a bit concerned, the blog made no mention of this and had never used pictures before. I scrolled down so the picture was gone, and the blog continued like nothing strange was up.

I stopped going on the blog eventually. More and more gruesome pictures were showing up. I commented on one entry about it and was met with confusion. No one else was complaining. I wrote it off as some in joke to get rid of all the noobs.

Other sites I frequent are taking up this shock picture trick. Itâ??s becoming a real pain. Iâ??m starting to fear clicking on every link.

I closed internet explorer today to find my background had been changed to another horrible photo. I couldnâ??t help but recognize this one. It was one I saw in driversâ?? ed of a particularly gruesome drunk driving incident. After resetting my background, deleting the picture I had apparently saved to my hard drive, cleaning up and defragging my hard drive, I opened the recycling bin to get rid of it once and for all.

I was a bit stunned. My bin was full of all sorts of random things I knew I never saved. There were porn sites, illegal downloads, pictures, e-mails, and other files with extensions I wasnâ??t familiar with. I cleared them all and decided I get some outside help.

I started looking online for any similar incidents. With no results I called Geek Squad, my Dad, and even brought the computer in to major dealers for a check-up. One large bill later, no problems were detected. Most even commented on how well kept the computer was.

The pictures stopped appearing, but I almost wish they were still the problem. My computer now displays everything almost as it should be. But now, whenever a person is displayed, their eyes are gouged out. It looked like a crappy Paint job at first, but they became more and more real. I tried showing it to a friend, but the computer worked fine when he was around.

I finally let my friend have the computer. He always commented on what a great machine it was when he was over. Iâ??m glad to be done with it. I had just bought a much more updated one and after starting it up, I was very happy to see everything working normally. I decided not transfer all the data from my old computer to the new one.

Happy to be done with it, I close the brand new model. Itâ??s only nine thirty and I turn on the television, knowing that I can get a good night sleep after Futurama. I lay back and turn up the volume to hear the opening theme. I recognize the unique little blurb they have, like what they do with the Simpsons; this is the infamous â??dogâ? episode. I get ready to feel sad when my heart jumps.

Fryâ??s eyes are missing.