Just a little text before the story, this isn't so much a paranormal story, or one including a murderer or a psycho, just a real unfortunate and unexplained downfall of a person that I know and the situation that he is in which currently haunts me. Have a nice read.
My uncle, David, once told me about a story about his friend, for easy reference let’s call this friend Stan. My uncle told me that last time Stan was truly himself, he was no more than 54. He recounts what happened as follows. (I’ll be using direct quotes from my uncle from now on)
“I used to adore Stan, he was ignorant as a bull and worked equally as hard as one. I always thought he’d outlive even his own sons. But one day I got a call from my dear friend and at first I thought it was nothing serious, the conversation went something like this,
“Hey David, yea it’s Stan, mind helping me out a little bit?”
“Yea sure thing, is everything okay?”
“Yea I’m not quite sure to be honest, I, I don’t really know what’s going on.”
“Talk to me buddy what’s happening?”
“Well, I can’t see out of my left eye, I was working out on the fields and it starting hurting a lot and when I got back home and I closed my eyes to wash my face, my left eye stopped working, I even tried shining some light onto it, could you please take me to a hospital? I don’t think I can drive like this.” On the drive to the hospital Stan had no fear in him at all, almost as if he thought everything was gonna go back to normal tomorrow, as if this was temporary and easily fixable, how he was so wrong. I dropped him off at the hospital and wished him all the best, and in that moment, I too had thought that the troubles were all done and that he would get better.
About 2 months later I went to go visit on Stan as it had been awhile, and I needed some company while my wife was out of town. When I got to Stan’s farm I expected him to come out and greet me like he usually does but he was nowhere to be seen, I searched his house and he wasn’t there. Although, his house was a total mess, dishes were piling up, scraps of food left on the table, the refrigerator open, and rubbish and dirty clothes littered the already stained floors.
I found Stan working out on his fields, he was crouched down and hunched over, digging. He was trying to plant some beans onto his soil but the row he dug wasn’t straight, in fact it was almost a full turn, the seeds he tried to place into the dug-up soil were all scattered over the whole ground, only a few managing to find its correct place in the soil. When I called out to him he ignored me and continued his futile attempt at working. I kept getting closer and closer to him until I patted his back to get his attention, he turned around, stood up and stared in confusion over my shoulder, he then shouted.
“Who is it?!”
“It’s me David, Stan are you alright?”
He couldn’t hear me,
“Who?!”
It then hit me, his left eye didn’t heal, no, it had gotten even worse, much worse, he was now fully blind on both eyes and his hearing was barely here. This was when I realized something was very wrong. Shouting, I guided him to inside his house. When we were both seated on his filthy table I began shouting my questions at him.
“HAVE YOU BEEN TO THE HOSPITAL?”
“Yes, yes but they said there’s nothing they can do to help me, hell they don’t even know what’s wrong with me”
This went on for several more weeks, he kept getting worse, and the doctors had no solution. The next time I visited him he was completely deaf, blind and couldn’t move his body from his neck down. The only way to communicate to him now was to slowly write each individual letters of the word you wanted to say on his belly. What made everything worse was that his mind, his sanity was completely intact and he knew everything that was going on. I couldn’t imagine a worse fate than to live a life like this. The few times he did speak, it was clear he was losing it.
“SHUT THEM UP, MAKE THEM STOP WHISPERING!” Or other things like. "It's so black, it's so dark."
These outbreaks usually ended with him crying and whimpering. The man I had respected so much soon became this, this thing, no longer a full human being, trapped in his own cursed body. Soon his sanity began slipping, we didn’t know when he was awake or when he was asleep apart from the small twitches on his face when we got an itch. The few times he did speak it became increasingly hard to understand as he slowly began to murmur, maybe it was caused due to his lack of hearing or his facial muscles deteriorating or maybe it was his slow decline in his sanity. Either way, it only took 2 weeks till he no longer spoke. It was hard on his family and it was unbelievable that just a few months ago he was a healthy and very active man, and now, he can’t see, hear, move, speak and now barely feel.
His friends and family including me began taking shifts to look after him, feed him, give him water things like that, and it was to my misfortune that I had received the night shift. It was a cold night Tuesday night, and I was leaning on my hands, with my face facing Stan. The lamp on the counter faintly illuminated the soft winkles on his face, his face was gaunt and bony, his hair had strings of white which contrasted his thick black hair, his hair was long now, and his facial hair had become tangled within one another. I slowly began to doze off staring at his closed eyes.
I blinked slowly and glanced at the clock, 12:51 am. I glanced back at Stan who's eyes were closed.
I blinked once more and the time was 2:18 am. I then glanced at Stan, and I nearly fell off my stool to the sight that was in front of me. He was laying down like he was before, but this time, his face was turned to stare directly at me, his eyes wide open, staring fearfully into my eyes. Tears were streaming down the side of his face and he half spoke and half cried.
“Help me David, please help me, I don’t want to live like this anymore, it’s so cold, everything is so dark, and they never stop whispering to me, please I want to die.”
The arms he hadn’t moved for months suddenly gripped my forearms and began shaking me violently, his long overgrown nailed dug deeply into my skin. I must have fainted because I was woken up to Stan’s brother shaking me, I tried to explain what but he refused to listen.
I don’t have the guts to tell their family what happened, and it’s been weeks since I lasted visited him. But he’s still alive to this day. Trapped in his own body, unable to call for help even when help is right next to him.”
When my uncle finished this story, the whole room was silent and shocked, the sheer thought of this happening to us made us tremble in fear. Just the idea about being deaf, blind, paralyzed still to this day shocks me. I honestly believe that this is worse than death itself.
Anyways, if your eye randomly starts to hurt, just be aware, you might meet a similar fate as this poor man.
Submitted April 26, 2017 at 11:03PM by GinMakesMeSocial http://ift.tt/2q6qhig nosleep
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