Joseph (Short Story)

Hey Guys!!! It’s Wednesday and I’m back with anotherrrrrrr post!!!!! So I wanted to do things a little differently and post a scary story that I wrote when I was just 14 years old. I decided to dig it up from its grave and share it with you all (just in time for Halloween muahh hahaaaa). Don’t judge me if there’s some grammatical errors here and there I had just started getting into creative writing lol. But with all that being said Enjoy and Comment below your thoughts as well as hit that subscribe button!

Joseph Buddle…. a shy and feeble sixteen year old kid from Buford Georgia, who did not have many friends. He was often bullied at school for his awkward ways and at home he was abused mentally and physically. Unlike most sixteen year old boys, Joseph did not enjoy sports or dirt bikes or anything of that nature, his calling was art. He expressed his emotions through all the paintings he drew. When he was feeling sad, he used hues of blue but when he was angry he would use loud colors like red and orange. Joseph had the artistic ability of someone twice his age and his dream was to become a famous artist. His dad, of course, did not support this, claiming that it was a women’s job.

Mr. Henry Richard Buddle was Joseph’s father’s name and he was a no good dirty man. He absolutely hated his son and felt as though Joseph would never be worth anything in his life. Whenever anyone would ask “Hey Henry how’s your son doing” he would simply reply with “I don’t recall having a son but I have something like a daughter”. At home he would push Joseph down the steps, “forget” to make him dinner, and taunt him about his dreams of becoming an artist. All-in-all his father was cold as the heart of a murderer. Joseph could not escape the bullying where ever he went and it just wasn’t fair.

Joseph always felt alone and the only things he had as friends were his paintings. No one gave him a chance, not even the teachers from his school cared to ask about the boy’s background. Everyone thought he was just that quiet..creepy.. kid.

One day at school a girl named Julia Whitaker came up to his lunch table and started flirting with Joseph. Julia was the team captain of the school’s cheerleading team, and she had been his crush for years now. He had gotten the chills and had felt this tingling sensation in his stomach that he had never felt before. The girl was just talking to him and he just stared into her beautiful sky blue eyes in complete awe. While in this daze the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to him had happened.  Four captains from the football team had taken multiple trash cans and dumped them all over him. Joseph’s face instantly turned red as ripened tomatoes, as he looked around, the whole cafeteria laughing at him, even Julia Whitaker. He knew that this had all been a setup; Julia came over to talk to him so he wouldn’t be able to see the dumb jocks with the cans of trash behind him. Even when Joseph got home his dad was standing at the door laughing when he came in, saying he saw what happened in a video on some social media site. He also made a remark that broke every vessel in Joseph’s heart. “I bet those DUMB ASS paintings couldn’t have saved you from this” he said sarcastically. Joseph was furious and he stormed in his room without saying a word to his father.

Day after day people were pointing and laughing at him calling him trash boy. The video must’ve gotten around to everyone in the neighborhood. Joseph eventually stopped going to school and stayed in his room. He shut out everyone and everything but no one not even Joseph’s dad would’ve imagined what happened next.

Joseph’s dad went upstairs with a bucket of ice-cold water one morning to wake him up, but when he reached the top of steps, he smelled the stench of something like raw sewage. He put the bucket down and went into every room and everything smelled perfectly fine. But there was one room that he didn’t check and that was Joseph’s room. He creeped cautiously down the hallway until he finally got in front of Joseph’s door. He opened the door slightly and it made an eerie cracking noise that gave Henry goose bumps down his entire spine. When he opened the door completely he let out a huge gasp and he couldn’t believe what was before his eyes.

There he was Joseph dangling from a tattered rope hooked on his high ceiling with blood still oozing from his neck, and his eyes, they were completely rolled up into his head. When Henry finally gathered the courage to enter Joseph’s room, he discovered a massive mural on the wall with vibrant colors of orange, red and yellow throughout it. The painting seemed so lifelike, almost like it was about to jump out and attack Henry. Henry then proceeded to reach for the painting when suddenly this loud screeching noise erupted from the wall. Pictures of these people began to form on the painting. Suddenly, a message started to appear on the painting underneath the disembodied figures that were also formed on the painting. It said, “To all the ones that hurt me you will be sorry”. Henry could not believe his eyes, he even tried rubbing them extra hard to see if this was real or fake. He then turned around to look at Joseph’s hanging body once more and it was gone.  After seeing that Henry took no hesitation in getting out of Joseph’s room, he ran out of there as fast as a bullet and searched for the phone to call 911.  

Fifteen minutes after Henry called the police they had arrived on his doorstep banging at the door. The smell of Joseph’s dead body must’ve traveled around the whole house because once the police entered the home they gagged and covered their noses from the rancid odor. “Where is that awful smell coming from”, the officers had asked. Instead of responding, Henry just pointed his bony fingers up the steps and they rushed up them. The police had only been up there for at least thirty seconds before one of them exclaimed, “Oh my God”! Henry rushed up the steps to see what was going on. Once again when he got up the stairs Henry and the dead corpse of his son had met again.

            The body was just swinging there and everyone was staring at the gruesome sight of Joseph. The police officers snapped out of their daze and took Henry in for some questioning and called medical officials to get the body.  

            “So, what happened”, said the podgy detective standing in front of Henry. Henry was full of anxiety and he didn’t know how to answer the man. “I didn’t do it”, he finally exclaimed, knowing that what he just told the detective wasn’t true. In fact, he was one of the biggest factors of his son’s death.  Henry then continued and said “I just went up to his room to wake him up to eat and he was just dangling there with so… much… blood. “And that horrid painting!” he exclaimed.

“What painting” said the detective.

“Didn’t you guys see it at the crime scene it was enormous” said Henry really puzzled like.

“No..all we saw was the dead body… are you ok Mr. Buddle”

Henry grew bright red and instantly boiled with anger and wailed, I’M FINE OK, I KNOW I’M NOT CRAZY!  I SAW THAT PAINTING”.  After his tantrum, he stormed out of the detective’s office and slammed the door behind him.

When Henry had returned home it was pitch black outside and once he entered his home he was out like a light. While in his slumber, Henry started to twist and turn. He began to have a nightmare about Joseph’s dead body and the painting. The dream started with Henry sitting in a chair, he was contained in a room while being blinded by darkness. Suddenly a strip of light appeared whereas though he could see the end of a hallway. Then that same light started flickering and this ringing noise started to come about. He was sweating like crazy and breathing ever so heavily while clenching the arms of the chair. Soon everything just stopped and this pale white figure was hanging there slowly drawing closer and closer to Henry. Henry started to close his eyes hoping the figure was going to be gone but when he opened his eyes the figure was floating right in front of his face. The figure was so close that he could tell you all the features it had, long blonde hair, sharp sky blue eyes, and an innocent female face. In a matter of seconds the girly like figure rolled its eyes back in their head and let out a dreaded scream that woke Henry right from his sleep. He looked around his place and it looked horrible. Pots and pans were on the floor, there were black marks on the walls, and the painting had appeared once again. A message came upon the painting followed by the loud screeching noise that erected from the walls. The message said “One down two to go”, and Henry thought about it for a moment. “What does that mean” he thought and one of the faces that was originally on the painting had disappeared. “There has to be some kind of connection with this” he mumbled.

He stayed up all night trying to figure out the sequence of events that had happened to him before he knew it, it was day time. He got up and drank some hard liquor and went outside for a moment and it was a gray, slightly cold day. Suddenly, a cop car and an ambulance truck rushed passed his house. “That’s something you don’t see everyday around here aye Henry” said Henry’s neighbor Mr. Jackal. Henry didn’t care to respond he was too deep in thought to answer him.

            Several hours later Henry saw on the news that a girl named Julia Whittaker was found dead that morning. They said that she was in her room, lying in her own pool of blood with a huge slit across her throat. Police said that they think that it was suicide since there were no source of forced entry or fingerprints at the scene. Soon after watching the news it dawned on Henry that the girl who died was the girl from his dream. “But how would a girl that I’ve never seen in my life be in my dream” Henry said to himself.

            All of a sudden Henry started to see the painting again but the colors seemed to be brighter and Joseph’s body seemed to be more lifelike, as if he was going to jump right out of the picture. Even though the eyes of Joseph were displayed as empty darks holes, they still looked as if they were looking into Henry’s soul. Henry felt terror going throughout his entire body when the mouth on Joseph’s painting started to move and spoke. “Father you’re cursed… since you lied about the truth you’re cursed with the sight of death of all the ones who have betrayed me, and if you don’t tell the truth soon you will die the most gruesome death of them all”. Henry was speechless at the sight of this “What are you” he screamed, but he got no reply but the painting disappeared once more and Henry was left confused about what had just happened to him.

 Weeks had gone by and Henry still didn’t confess the truth to the authorities yet and he started developing these massive headaches. That Henry Buddle, he’s still a hard headed bastard and always will be. Twisting and turning all night. Henry began to have one of  those night terrors again. This one was about Henry being in that same chair in that same dark room from his very first nightmare. There was something different though. A projector screen was showing still moving figures, all with their eyes blackened out, hanging with ropes around their necks on tree branches. An old record eerily started to play, and Henry woke up with cold sweats all over him. His heart was beating at 100 mph but even after that dream he still hadn’t told anyone about his wrongdoings until that next morning.

            Henry turned on his TV to see yet another story about teens dying. The team captains of the football team of Joseph’s school had died from a gruesome car accident, which ultimately caused the car to blow up in a million morsels. Henry started biting his nails finally realizing that what the spirit of Joseph was saying …was true.

He began pacing in the kitchen, banging on counters and walls, and throwing everything in his path in a uncontrollable rage. “I’M DONE” he shouted “You win I’m driving myself insane with all this, I’m sorry, I can’t deal, Joseph I’m sorry”! Suddenly, Joseph’s body appeared and the body was hard to look at without throwing up or gagging. He had dark, soul less eyes, blood was dripping off him, he had patches of hair gone from his scalp, and huge gouges all over his body. Henry wanted to scream so badly, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t do it. The figure of Joseph just sat there and stared at his dad in shame. In a raspy voice Joseph’s ghost said “It’s too late Father” and he reached his arm out and in an instance Henry’s body folded like a piece of paper and blood was oozing out his mouth slowly filling the tight spaces of the kitchen tiles. The ghostly body of Joseph slowly disappeared.

            Years had passed and no one ever questioned the disappearance of Henry. Although, people passing by the house say they can hear the agonizing screams of Henry. Some even say they can see the painting of Joseph if they stare hard enough through the windows. Please be kind everyone…Happy Halloween.


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