Warning, Some Gore, Read At Your Own Risk .-.

Warning, some gore, read at your own risk .-.

I wasn't expecting this.

I had gone out to the country side to visit my grandmother. She was a kind old lady with muscles of stone. The farm she ran was of good size, her crops were always handled well by her farm hands. Grandpa wasn't around, he'd passed away only 3 years ago. That wound was still pretty fresh in my heart, and grandma's. She had me stay in her guest room. She'd kept it pretty tidy, not a speck of dust in the room. The only sign of life i saw was the odly shaped spiderweb in the corner, which when I pointed it out grandma came in with her duster and took care of it.

Everyone knew I had a bad immune system. I grew up in the city and got sick often. That being said I grew to hate doctors as I saw them way too much. Mom didn't want to move out here, but couldn't pay enough to leave the city and head to the suburbs. So, until mom's got everything set up, I'm gonna be here for a while. At around nine, I got into bed. I was cuddled up all fine and dandy until I felt a pinch on the right side of my face. I sat up startled and stuck my hands to it while I turned on the lamp on the left side table. I saw something in my peripheral that looked to be a dark brown blob, I wasn't wearing my glasses. I hurriedly smashed them onto my face but tge culprit was gone. I stood up and headed to the restroom, looking in the mirror and checked my face. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.... I went back to bed that night.

I wish I'd woke up Grandma.

The next morning I awoke to a stinging pain in the same spot. I reached up to touch it in my sleep only to hiss and jump back from the sharp stinging pain. My fingertips looked to have blood and pus along them. I hurried into the bathroom again to see that the spot from last night had practically melted in a circular pattern. It was red and brown, and the puss seemed to ooze slightly from the wound.

I hate doctors.

I can't tell.

I should have told grandma.

I decided I wasn't going to wear glasses today, and I parted my hair to cover the spot. I went along the day playing pretend like everything was fine. That night, I went and looked in the mirror. It was worse. I could see it coming dangerously close to my eye.

I couldn't do it.

The doctors were too much...

I should have told grandma.

The next day I told everyone i wasn't feeling well and didn't want to be bothered. They respected my wishes.

It got worse, the vision in my right eye blurred and I fell asleep. When I awoke, I quickly jumped up and ran to the bathroom. It had eaten away at the skin and had rotted my eye.

I couldn't see out of my right eye.

I needed help.

I needed to tell Grandma.

I ran back to my room. I hid for another day. I had been eating, sneaking food when no one was awake, but I couldn't keep it down anymore. I was getting sicker.

I didn't have to tell Grandma.

She barged in at the sound of my retching into the small basket. When I looked up at her she gasped holding a shaking hand to her agape mouth.

"Grandma-?"

Her face quickly turned to an angry glare as she slammed my door shut.

"No-! Grandma wait-!" I tried to push open the door but it was stuck.

"Grandma!!" I banged it the door and called out to her.

I went and I sat down after a while, my throat in pieces. I sniffed as I began to cry.

I'm still sitting here.

I should have told grandma. What is that smell-? I look around to see smoke coming up from one of the vents. I gasp and quickly stand up. I ho back to banging on the door.

"Grandma please let me out please help me-!" I screamed out with the voice I had left.

Grandma stood out side the house, a cigarette in her mouth and a hand on the cross that hung around her neck.

"I knew Charles' ghost was still here." Her face was tense.

"I can't believe he got poor 'ol Ally, the sick bastard." She said to herself. The farm hands came running from behind, fire truck sirens in the distance.

I wasn't expecting this.

I thought the girl had just burned to death, but theres signs of brown recluse toxins in her blood.

I need to get Dennis on this case...something's not right.

Eh, could be better. No ghosts, no psychopaths just. Suspicious grandmas and brown recluses.

A horror story that doesn’t involve one of the big three (Paranormal, Aliens, or a Psychopath) just to show me it can actually be done.