The Cryer

Whenever I can't sleep, I stay up on my computer writing or browsing the web. Videos, blogs, news; you know. Anyway, the other night I went to open up a new document in order to type up a fabulous new short story I'd written. The story, called The Cryer, was a horror piece about a man who loses his eyes in an accident, goes insane, and begins taking the eyes of children.

I clicked on the document and nearly fell out of my chair because there he was: the cryer. Just as I'd imagined him: shrieking in mid-grimace with blood trickling down his face. I quickly closed out of the window and tried to catch my breath. Maybe I'd seen the idea for The Cryer somewhere else, copied a picture to my desktop, and subconsciously written a story about it. I thought "a Google search should clear this up."

When I clicked on the browser I actually did fall out of my chair. Because now the cryer was back on my screen, just as before. Except this time he was smiling. More of a sinister grin, than a happy smirk.

That's when I heard the knock on the window.

My curiosity won over my petrifying fear. I drew the curtains open.

Written in blood on the window were the words: Thank You.