Telepathic Judas ~ bac2

Creepypastas Written By 12 Year Old Reddit Users by ispentsixhourswatchingshockvideosyesterday

I wrote creepypastas in 7th grade, they were awful and my English teacher would proofread them. I can’t remember her name, but I’m really grateful she did that for me. At some point during this phase, I read one at an open mic night at an art center. I had been there before but I remember this was the first time I had read something in front of people. I remember a very pretty lady telling a story there after me. I had been to this art center a couple times for some fun events and things like a portrait drawing class. After the open mic where I read, I ended up joining a writer’s club. This was one of those workshops where you’d get a prompt and you’d write something relating to the prompt. There was a lot of characters, and most people were sweet. There was a weird guy named Al, I think. There was a handful of really nice old ladies. There was a guy in his 40s, I can’t remember his name, and I remember he tried his hardest to be romantic and all poetic and it was annoying. There was another guy named Mark, who, through no fault of the art center was a major creep. I don’t think the older lady who ran the art center at the time ever knew about Mark being a creep or else she would’ve kicked him out, I only knew about Mark being a creep from the poetic guy - however I probably should’ve said something to one of the older ladies who ran the place. Mark has made a name for himself in recent years by sitting in local coffee shops for hours writing in a composition notebook, harassing baristas, and essentially waiting for death. I do not care for Mark. However, despite this there was a lot of good that came from this art center during this time (2016), I remember there being a manga club that I was the only other person besides the two organizers to show up. I remember then showing up for the club a couple weeks later and no one being there but someone let me know and I got to draw in the art center all by myself for hours. During the writer’s club there was a guy, I can’t remember his name, but he was very sweet but kind of goofy. He had very dry skin or eczema like I do, but he would never read from the prompt given to us - he had this big dollar store binder with a screenplay he was consistently writing, the screenplay was about a superhero couple who went to Hawaii together to spend some alone time from their superhero kids and fighting crime, however, their vacation in Hawaii goes bad when a volcano erupts or aliens show up or something. He read from this screenplay every other week. He always wore business casual type clothing, I’m not sure what he did for work, but I want to say he was in IT. One day he was late, and I remember him coming in through the door to the art center looking awful, his shirt being unbuttoned, clutching an unfamiliar suitcase (usually he just brought his binder), etc. I remember him walking down the carpeted wheelchair rampant to the basement of the art center where we all were reading. I remember everyone being silent as he walked down and I remember when he got to the table we sitting at he said, “I’m getting a divorce today.” I remember being slightly afraid he was gonna kill us all (which was a bit judgmental on my part), but I remember after he said that and people had said their condolences about this guy’s divorce, he opened up his binder and started reading from his superhero screenplay. I hope that guy and everyone except for mark is doing well. Soon after my parents told me they were getting a divorce, I stopped going to the art center and I think the art center essentially existed in a state of limbo for a while. I went to military school, got my first jobs, and eventually moved in with my first girlfriend. I had a dark period and that is what Christian Science is about. But about a year after I released Christian Science, I signed up for an open mic night at this art center I hadn’t been to in years. I bombed that open mic, however that’s where I met everyone I know now and am very grateful to that experience. I played many great shows there and helped out with other things and had a blast. It’s where me and Seth recorded all the Socialist Book Club stuff and Insect Politics and I reconnected with Dave. I remember recording SBK stuff and laying on the carpeted wheelchair ramp while pretending to meditate. It was the people I met during this time that mean the world to me today, even though it was just a building it holds a special place in my heart. It is under new management now I believe.