Fandom

Creepypasta Wiki

Greensleeves

10,249pages on
this wiki
Add New Page
Comments2 Share

Ad blocker interference detected!


Wikia is a free-to-use site that makes money from advertising. We have a modified experience for viewers using ad blockers

Wikia is not accessible if you’ve made further modifications. Remove the custom ad blocker rule(s) and the page will load as expected.

I decided to write this down, so in case anybody sees this, they will be careful when they encounter her. Not that this will save them of course. It will just show them exactly what could happen to them. It started when my daughter, Caroline, gave me a little wooden music box for my birthday. Of course, I thought it was a rather girly thing to do to give to a father, but since she had used all her savings to buy this for me, I decided to treasure it anyway. It was soft - calming. It had the kind of tune that makes you want to sleep and never wake up again. The tune was familiar - I think it was the tune of 'Greensleeves' or 'What Child Is This' - whichever name you prefer. My daughter left for camping a few days ago. I was kind of worried...after all, she was only fourteen years old and was out there with boys and girls I didn't even know. She said she would only be gone for a week and that she would be texting me about what was happening every now and then. 

That's when it began.

I started to get these weird dreams about her - Caroline. Some were just her and her friends hanging out with me joining them, while most were gruesome in so many ways I can't bear to write down. There was one, however, I may write. This one was by far the least gory of them all.

I remember it all too well...

I was shaken awake by my daughter screaming my name, before she looked to the side, running away, leaving me.

It was as if something was chasing her. I couldn't move. My eyelids refused to open...I was so weak. But then I woke up, still in the dream. Something was dripping on my forehead - it was black and thick, kind of like fudge. My eyes fluttered open, only to see a dead oak tree with its branches decorated with hanging bodies. Each of their stomachs was ripped open with their innards hanging out. Thick, black liquid oozed out of them. I looked up only to encounter another drip, this time it landed on my left eye... There was a body hanging right above me. It looked down at me with a grotesque face, which caused my stomach to churn and vomit right on the spot. The only thing I knew at the moment was that I had to leave this place. That was only, of course, until I realized I was surrounded by trees all around. Bright red, glowing eyes peered from the corners, observing me. Ignoring the maggots crawling out of my vomit, I left the scene. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I just wanted to get away from that hellish tree. After a long while of walking, with no idea where exactly I was going, I heard it - the music box. It echoed throughout the forest; the sound slowly started to get sickening. It was horrible! The lullaby I once knew just turned into a high pitched screech. 

It almost made me want to rip my ears to make myself deaf. I shut my eyes, praying for it to be over. I pinched myself, hit my head against the trees, even ripped thick pieces of my hair out just to try and wake myself up. That was when I saw her. I thought it was Caroline, but as I write this I came to realize that it wasn't her. I decided to call this thing that wore my daughter's skin "Greensleeves," since whenever I would encounter her, the music box played. Her long, soft brown hair was an utter mess. The green jacket she usually wore had its sleeves stitched with other pieces of green cloth, making the sleeves inhumanly long. Her brown skirt was tattered as if was ripped by something. She was barefoot for some reason, wounds and bruises covered her legs like she was crawling on rocks and thorns. Since I didn't yet know that it wasn't my daughter, I reached out and called her name, but my cry was interrupted by wrinkled, long grey fingers.

They grabbed my legs and hands before pulling me back to the direction of the tree. I called for help, but of course, none came. I dug my nails deep into the soil, but the strength of those hands was too much for me to handle. I looked at the daughter I once knew... She turned her head to look at me, and gave me a sweet smile. Black voids were the only things present in the space where her brown eyes used to be. Slowly, she walked towards me, the hands still dragging me back. As she walked closer and closer, everything around her turned dark. Once she was close enough for me to touch her, I woke up perspiring.

At first I thought it was just stress over work, maybe even because of my worry for her. But, as soon as I started to get morbid nightmares the next couple of days, I knew this wasn't stress. I began to suffer from insomnia, not wanting to have any more of those dreams, good or bad. I have contacted a psychiatrist - they responded, saying that I would have an appointment in three weeks. 

I waited for Caroline to come back at the end of the week, but she never came. So, I decided to contact the police and to look for her, writing her down as missing. I was worried sick. The house seemed to have grown darker as the days passed without her. My eyes grew tired, with dark bags under them, but still, I refused to sleep. I also seemed to have gotten attached to the music box Caroline gave me. It honestly was the only thing that brought me back to earth. Hearing a second without it playing would make me just go into a mental breakdown, crying for no reason at all. I stopped working as well, since they wouldn't allow me to bring the music box to work. 

Sometimes, I would get the feeling of being watched... Being judged. Dark shadows would appear at the corner of my eye but would disappear whenever I turned to look. One time, I had this some sort of blackout, and only snapped out of it the next morning with a knife tightly wrapped in my hand while the blade rested itself against my wrist. 

I also started to see things, was it because of lack of sleep? No. It was because of her. Sometimes, I would see myself walked around the house until this copy of me reached the balcony and jumped off the top floor. Sometimes I would see myself taking pills. Sometimes I would see myself with my daughter, strangling her to death before I put the muzzle of the gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger. Every now and then, I would hear my daughter's sweet giggles around the house. But I usually ignored it by listening to the box. 

In two more days, I'll be seeing the psychiatrist; I really want this to stop. Hopefully, it might if I go see him. Greensleeves seemed to have been getting closer to me, too. I would see her clearly, tiny little red dots in the center of her black eyes would be staring into my soul, the smile never leaving her face. I don't know why, but whenever I see her, I would seem to smile.... Not that I wanted to. Something about her just makes me feel... Happy. 

I think this is the last time I'm ever going to write in this journal. I heard her clearly; her voice seemed to have been combined with my daughter's and a child's. Yes, I have called the police. But I know that when they arrive it's too late. I would be dead. They have no way of hiding from her, so why will I? Right now, I'm sitting on my couch, with tears dripping on this paper. I can feel her, she's right behind me - my mind and heart are racing. If you see my body, whatever you think the cause of death is. I PROMISE you that you're wrong. It was all of her doing. She's wrapping her sleeves around me, like she's hugging me. She's saying that she's going to rip me open and get what I deserve. She's saying that everybody I once knew would be all killed by her. Before she can do anything else... Please read this: A music box isn't the only method she could use to

***

A police officer wrote down his observations quietly at the crime scene. William Brooks just hanged himself in his living room. Why though? He had a perfect life before his daughter went missing. Though, he didn't understand why he would call 911 before killing himself.  Was there a point? The officer was about to leave the scene alone to talk to another officer before he noticed something beside the body. A small wooden box rested quietly beside his corpse. It was soft, calming. It had the kind of tune that makes you want to sleep and never wake up again.

Also on Fandom

Random Wiki