Author's note: This is my first creepypasta so please be nice :) but constructive criticism would be great, thank you and enjoy!

I don’t really know how to begin this… I’ll try to get straight to the point I guess. This is my suicide note, and I decided I would give an explanation for my actions for the little friends and family I have left who care, or maybe just for a curious passer-by. Either way, I feel like I need to explain my story so here we go.

My name is Caleb and I’m eighteen. I was a typical teenage boy who only cared about my friends, having fun and of course girls. After finishing up school, my friends and I pretty much hit the clubs every night and enjoyed the alcohol and dancing with hot girls, my life was carefree, I was happy. On the 16th of June my friends were mutilated in a car accident… drunk driving of course. I remember they were telling me they were going to a party that night but I had come down with the flu and wasn’t up for it. I had drunken calls from them all night, including when they died. The conversation was as followed:

“Bro, that party was so sick!” exclaimed my friend Chris, “We all missed you tonight, feeling up chicks isn’t the same without you!” I laughed at Dylan’s remark. I could tell they were drunk, I ask where they were. “Just in the car.”

“Wait, you’re in the car?!” I exclaimed. As if on cue I heard the sound of screeching tires and the panicked wails of my friends, then I heard a big CRASH shortly followed by the phone cutting out. I was very worried; they could’ve been badly hurt or… dead. The rest of that night was a blur, I drove around main roads and highways and sure enough I came across police cars and ambulances… I parked my car and ran to the scene, the sight I was greeted with was my three friends mangled in the metal of the smashed up cars… I felt numb, I had just lost my three best friends… and then I had a scarier thought, I could’ve been in that accident with them. I turned cold after that, my parents insistently tried to reach out to me but I denied all offers of help, it wouldn’t bring them back.

After their deaths I hit rock bottom, how one second I was on the phone to my friends and they were happy… and next they were dead, it was such a scary thought. I lost contact with any other friends, lost my job and argued with my parents a lot, they could see how I was losing control and I just would not accept help. After a while I just became numb, felt no emotions, I was so lost in my existential thoughts that nothing in reality mattered. What is the point in doing anything when you’ll just die one day? Everyone will forget about you eventually, even if you did leave a legacy behind, it would one day be forgotten. Plus one day this Earth will be gone too and the human race will be a faded memory. Those were the kind of thoughts I was having, I just couldn’t see the point…

That’s when the blacking out began.

I was never a violent kind of guy (unless I felt highly threatened) so why this happened still confuses me. It was nighttime, around 11:24 PM and I had just got off the phone, arguing with my parents again… typical. And my vision started to fade at the edges and everything was going dark. I was highly confused, as I have never had any eyesight problems, suddenly my knees buckled and I fell to the floor. I opened my eyes and realised that I was standing up in my living room. How the hell did I get here? I thought, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my left palm and I realised I was holding a shard of glass… holding it so tightly that it sliced my palm. I looked around for the source of glass and saw I must’ve smashed the mirror in my bathroom, I took care of the wound and decided to go to sleep, it had been a long day… maybe it was just pure exhaustion. I only wish back then that I didn’t brush it off… otherwise I would never have met this fate but no! I’m an idiot, so of course I brushed it off as a one-time thing.


I woke up the next morning and went through my normal, dull routine that had somehow become my life, I had no more occurrences of blacking out and then I believed it really was just exhaustion… until two weeks later. I had gotten a text from my friend Lila who knew my dead friends when they were alive, she texts me about once a week, offering a helping hand or suggesting going to get a coffee together, hell, even just to ask if I was alive and okay, the care she displayed really was nice. The message I got from her was this:

"Hey Caleb, I’m around your area and wanted to see if you would like me to swing by your apartment? You don’t have to clean up or anything, it’ll just be nice to see you ☺."

I don’t know why but that day I felt like company with an old friend would be… enjoyable. I got back to her almost immediately, confirming that I would like her to visit. Why did I have to feel sociable? Why couldn’t I just say no and go back to living but wishing I wasn’t? She got to my apartment around twenty-five minutes later, I opened the door and she gave me a hug, despite my unkempt appearance. She ended up staying the night and for once I felt quite happy, she laid on the couch and I went to my bedroom. I was brushing my teeth and about to get into bed when suddenly I got that feeling again… my vision was fading and darkness was taking over.

I woke up to screaming and crying, I had a knife in my hand and was hovering over the couch and then I realised… I had tried to hurt Lila! I remember how she was shaking and just begging for me not to hurt her, the next thing I remember she had run out the door… I had just lost another friend. For the next month, I tried to stay away from people and keep to myself, but it didn’t matter because each time I blacked out, I would travel anyway. It was like a constant repetition… vision fading and darkness, then waking up to realise I was holding a knife and had travelled.

I had tried so hard! I really did! I locked all doors and hid weapons but it didn’t matter… I always found a way. Since I wasn’t around other people when blacking out, I started harming myself, I would wake up and find slash marks all over my body.

Then it happened… I forgot to mention that not far from my apartment building is a forest. I was up watching TV and next minute I felt the sensation again… vision fading and the darkness taking over. This time I woke up to the feeling of warm liquid running down my hands, I looked down and saw that I was holding a knife in my right hand… and my knife was plunged into a deer. I started to cry, I was not that kind of person! I would never ever harm anything! And there I was… in a pool of blood from an animal that I killed. I knew I couldn’t go on like this and that brings us to now…


Whatever the hell is happening to me, I can’t control it, when I black out I have no control over my own body. I hate blacking out; it turns me into someone or something that I am not! I’m not a monster… or at least I don’t mean to be. I can’t keep going on like this, I have to make everyone around me safe, because, what if one day I wake up and realise I had murdered someone or slaughtered an entire family! No, I just can’t live to see that day, especially when I feel it’s near.

I have my knife with me, it’ll set me free from this body that I can no longer control, it’ll set everyone around me free… they’ll be safe. If anyone sees this then please tell my mum and dad I love them and I’m sorry for ever fighting with them.

I stab the knife straight into my heart… the crimson liquid pouring from the wound.

My vision is fading and darkness is taking over, I’m blacking out… but this time… it’s for good.