You Won't Wake Up: A CreepyPasta FanFiction (Watty's 2014)

And here I am. Caged, liked a sinning bird whose forgotten how to sing. Trapped as easily as before, defeated, and hunched in my own little corner. This is expected, although, my reign couldn't last forever. But had I expected my crown to be broken so swiftly, in one fleeting moment, my rule, my firm grasp I've spent years building, to be snatched out of my hands in one fluid moment, and to be injured in the process?

No, of course I hadn't. Because you never expect a rebellion. Sure, you see the warning signs, but you always, always, convince yourself they're not serious, that it will all work out. And that's when the kingdom falls, that's when a new era is born, that's when you've realized the tides are already, and always have been against you, eroding at your mind, wearing away the senses.

I've tried for so long in this bitter lifetime, aching, yearning to finally just be able to breathe a little, not wear this tormenting mask. But we all know that if I were to take it off, I would be exiled. Marked a freak, worse than the rest of them. If only.

If only I had seen the warning signs. If only I had left before it was too late, past the point of no return.

A wry smile hovers on my lips as I remember the useless fact I introduced to myself. Pilots in World War Two would only have enough fuel to make it a little bit past their destination, and many times, once they reached a certain point, it would be past the point of no return. Past the point of no return.

And here I'll stay, decaying at a faster pace, stuck with only my mind and its photographic memory. I guess I'm lucky in the sense that I'll always be able to distract myself, I don't know how well say Jeff, would thrive alone for years and years.

The real question that's been gnawing at the back of my mind, threatening me, is how long will I stay in here before they begin to interrogate me. This cell seems to be able to completely block all outside sounds, and it doesn't have windows. It's all cold concrete, with the exception of a small bunk and toilet.

They could be here in any moment and I wouldn't be able to tell.

And I wait in silent fear, waiting for them to try and pull all the tricks they could possibly know on me.

Where are the others? Have they survived? Or have they already cracked under the mounting strain, the final straws breaking our backs? I know that the game is up, that this is the end.

I feel like the first one to break would be Jeff. Staying silent and knowing when to keep his mouth shut isn't exactly his strong suit. Toby, if he managed to not get arrested, would most definitely be next. Then who else? Clockwork? Masky? Hoodie? Or myself?

The more I think about it, the more worried I get. I most certainly will be condemning myself if I allow it to happen. I cannot let them win. I cannot permit them to think that they have the advantage over me. But that's the way it's always been, right? Hoping and clinging onto the false idea that I could for once not succumb, not fail, not fall into the traps so carefully laid out for me.

"It's simple really. You give us your brother, and you'll never have to own up for what you did."

This simple phrase loiters in my head, constantly hanging over my eyes, the ghost haunting me, and refusing to give up.

And I had done as they asked.

I had done it.

I had to.

No one would know what I had done, and if it was something as simple as betraying a family member, I was fully prepared. I didn't care anymore, all I had cared about was saving my own hide, cover up my wrong doings. I hadn't thought about how much it would hurt, how much I would realize that I didn't care anymore. It hurts once you reach the point of where you no longer think of anyone else, including yourself, because you no longer give a shit, to put it frankly.