18 Aug The Conversation
“The Conversation”
Written by J.C. Fields Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/ACopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
⏰ ESTIMATED READING TIME — 4 minutes
Staring out the apartment window I saw them. This sent a tingle down my spine as I watched them go about their malicious activities. I turned to my companion and glared. “So, you think you have all the answers?”
“Never said I did.”
“On the contrary, you’ve told me more than once, you know everything. If you’re going to lie to me, just stay quiet.”
“Whatever. But I’ve never lied to you.”
I folded my arms and stared hard at the individual in front of me. “Fine. We have more important matters to discuss.”
“I’m listening.”
“Food, we’re running out and I have no clue where to get more.”
“Have it delivered.”
I felt myself stiffen. Narrowing my eyes, I asked. “By whom?”
“By who ever does that sort of thing.”
“How can you be so stupid?”
“You know, if you don’t want food delivered, you might actually need to leave the building.”
“You don’t get it do you?”
“Get what?”
I closed my eyes, shook my head and took a deep breath. “How dangerous it is out there.” I pointed out the window. “Sunshine keeps the others away. But it’s been cloudy for months making it unsafe to walk around.”
“What others?”
“You know—them.”
“Oh, good grief. What are you talking about? Who is them?
I felt my hands clinch so hard, my fingernails bit into my palms. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said for these past months, have you?”
My companion folded his arms.
“If you had listened to me, you would know we’re the only sane ones left in the city. Everyone else has escaped. We’re alone and being hunted.”
“Yes, yes. You’ve mentioned this several times. But if everyone is gone, who do you think is hunting us?”
I walked to the window and stared out. Our apartment, being on the tenth floor, provided a good view of what the world looked like. On the street below, a movement caught my eye. Pointing down, I returned my attention to him. “There’s one of them, now. Hurry, you can see what I’m talking about.”
He shook his head. “That’s the wind blowing a tattered flag.”
“You haven’t looked.”
“I don’t need to. Trust me, it’s your imagination.”
I looked back at the spot where I saw movement. Nothing. The image was gone. This time all I saw was torn fabric limp on a pole. A tear flowed down my cheek. “I saw them, I swear I saw them.”
“You want to see them. And therefore, your mind lets you see them.”
I spun around and glared hard at my companion. “I’m not crazy.”
In a gentle voice, my infuriating companion asked. “Are you sure?”
“Like I told you before, we’re the only sane ones left. So, I’m absolutely not crazy.”
“I know you would like to believe that. But first, let me ask you a question.”
“What?”
“When was the last time you went outside?”
“I don’t know, a couple of days ago, maybe a week.”
“It’s been over a month. You’re losing track of time. Which, I hate to say, is the first hint you are losing your grip on reality.”
“I am not losing my grip. I chose not to leave. Besides, they scare me.”
My buddy chuckled. “Now we’re getting to the heart of the problem. You’re scared of your own imagination.”
“It’s not my imagination. They are out there. And, they are hunting me.”
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Then in a voice reminiscent of my mother, he asked. “Why are they hunting you?”
“I don’t know, maybe to kill me. Or worse, steal my soul.”
“Your own thoughts will not kill you, my friend.”
“Why do you always try to be so logical? I know, if I go outside, they will kill me. If you’re so smart, tell me why I feel that way?”
“Because, it’s what you believe. However incorrect you might be, it’s what you accept as reality.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. With sudden clarity, I realized the problem. “It’s you. You’re one of them. You’re the one driving me nuts.”
“I am not making you crazy.”
“But you are.”
“How?”
“By constantly telling me how I’ve lost my grip on reality and badgering me about seeing shadows where there are none.” I pointed out the window again. “You’re just like the rest of them. Why are you treating me this way?”
“Better it be me than anyone else.”
I’m sure my scream of indignation could be heard by all the souls around us. Clinching my fists, I felt my face flush. I grabbed an empty glass on the table next to me and threw it at him.
The mirror shattered and he was gone.
My breathing grew rapid and my heart thumped within my chest. Turning to the window, I looked out. They were all on the street staring up at me. The tightness in my chest intensified as they pointed in my direction. They’d found me.
Throwing the window open, I started screaming. I could hear laughter. They all pointed up at me and their taunts intensified. I turned back to the mirror. I could now see a distorted image of my companion.
He also pointed and laughed at me. “Look at yourself. You have finally lost what little grasp of sanity you possessed. Now take a deep breath and calm down.”
“No.” I hissed. “You have no idea what I am going through.”
“My dear friend. I know you better than you know yourself. Now, calm down and close the window. It’s freezing out there.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW ME.”
“Who do you think I am?”
I sobbed and shook my head. “I…I…don’t know anymore.”
“I’m you, you idiot. Now shut the damn window and calm down.”
Staring at him with disbelief, I screamed. “Noooo.”
I realized escape was my only option. I had to escape the madness. Glancing back at the open window, the decision came easy. I made a mad dash toward it and leapt.
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
Written by J.C. Fields Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/A🔔 More stories from author: J.C. Fields
Publisher's Notes: N/A Author's Notes: N/AMore Stories from Author J.C. Fields:
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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).