They make you have weird dreams you know. They put things inside you that course through your brain and you never know when the dream truly ends. This time was a bit different. I'm sure you've had dreams that seem so real that when you wake up you have to wonder whether you're truly awake or not right? My whole life seems to be like that. Or my whole night? It gets hard to tell now.
I had woken up in a dark room with only enough light to see basic outlines of the surrounding objects. To my left in my bed, curled up, was my son. Or at least I think he was. He was turned away from me but I could hear his steady breathing as he continued to sleep. I sat in my warm bed for awhile wondering just how long I had slept.
As my eyes adjusted more I could tell the room was very nice. It was neat and clean. The kind of clean you would expect from someone who had their life together, perhaps an exceptionally tidy doctor. It even had a similar smell to a doctors office. The bed sheets were dark blue and the blanket, a darker sort of midnight purple. There were curtains on the wall but there didnt seem to be any windows behind them. I scanned the room for anything weird but I didn't find much. Two doors slightly different sizes, flowers hung upside down, and a painting that can only be described as a depiction of the color yellow.
Soon enough I got bored of sitting there and quietly got out of bed. One of the doors I knew to be the bathroom which is of course where I went first. I walked by the mirror and something caught my eye. I looked strange somehow. It was clearly me, but I looked almost fine. Almost normal. Handsome even. My hair was a bit funny looking, but I chalked it up to having just woken up. I went through my usual morning routine and left the room.
As I opened the door I was nearly blinded by bright white light. There were huge floor to ceiling windows on one side of the room and on the other was a small kitchen. Every appliance in it looked expensive, not something I thought I could ever afford. All the furniture outside the kitchen was white. A white dining table with two white chairs, a white couch to the left of the table paired with a white armchair next to it. Mounted on a wall across from the couch was a huge television almost thin enough to pass as an image printed on paper. Weirdly, there was no other door in the room except for the one I had just walked out of which I now realized was open. A small voice piped up somewhere in the room. "Dad?" it asked. I froze for a minute as I tried to figure out where the voice had come from. I instinctively looked at the tv which wasn't on. Then I saw him. The boy who had just been sleeping was now suddenly on the couch. "Were you talking to me?" I asked him. "Of course I was. Who else would I be talking to?" He didn't look at me, only at the tv that had nothing on it. "I don't know. I guess I'm still waking up... Did you need something?" "Yeah." "Well what is it?" "Food" "Well would you like me to make you something then?" "No." He said this in a way that sounded cold. Uncaring. This kid was strange but I just figured maybe he was still waking up too.
I walked into the kitchen without another word and looked in the tall metal refrigerator. There wasn't much in it really. A small bit of fruit in one drawer, lunch meats in another, milk and cheese. Standard stuff. The only intersting thing in it was an unlabeled red drink which I didn't touch. I took a pear and closed the fridge. Before I moved, my heart started racing. It beat so fast that it almost hurt. I turned around to see the small child facing me only he didn't have eyes and his whole face seemed to be twisted into a creepy grin. "You know that's not yours." he said cheekily. "W-what did you say?" I blinked and the child looked completely okay. He looked at me with sparkly blue eyes that were just slightly covered with his dusty brown hair. "I asked you if we had any juice" he started to move past me before I could think of anything to say. "Hey, um... What's your name?" The kid stopped and stared at me. "Dad, my name is Parker. Are you okay?" I didn't really know the answer to that question so I just told him I was fine. I went to get some water from the sink but when I turned the focet nothing came out. It make a sort of whirring sputtering sound before some kind of dark goo came oozing out of it. The kid put his hand on my shoulder and he squeezed tightly. "None of this is yours. You are ours." he said in a calm, dead tone. "What do you mean by that?" I replied. "I mean you'll overflow the sink. Are you sure you're okay?" This was starting to get extraordinarily weird. I turned off the sink and I decided to go sit down. My thoughts were starting to get crazy and irrational, so I decided to turn on the tv. All the channels were out but one. On the screen flashed images of blood and murder, corruption and chaos. Quiet music was played along with it. A tune I barely recognized and I didn't know how I knew it. Briefly a sentence appeared that said, "you belong to us." and the television turned off along with many other things in the room. The sun itself seemed to turn off and it was as dark as the bedroom now. I felt something brush against my leg and I froze in fear. In less than a second after I felt something heavy pressing down on my chest. A force I couldn't see or touch was making it impossible to breathe and I could hear nothing but my own blood pulsing through my veins and the words "you wish" repeating over and over in my head. I tried to scream but nothing would come out and I started feeling as if holes were being ripped into my flesh and when I felt like I was about to pass out, I woke up.
My eyes flew open and I find a cat sitting on my chest staring dead at me. In my panic I flung the cat off me and sat up, looking all around me. I was in an alley between two tall buildings next to a garbage container. As I slowed my breathing I noticed the cat still staring at me a few feet away. I started to stand and it turned to run away. Before it did I caught a glimpse of its collar. Parker. . . . That's it for now, I hope you've enjoyed the story so far. I started writing this at 1am and now its almost 4. Its probably not as good as I think it is, but any positive or negative feedback is welcomed. What do you think? Is he still dreaming? What does it all mean? Who owns him?
Submitted October 20, 2017 at 04:17PM by DVanDam1 http://ift.tt/2l36uC2 creepypasta
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