First Story:
Second Story:
There was a babysitter who was hired to take care of a little girl. That night, after the parents left, the babysitter allowed the girl to watch a horror movie on television. Half-way through the movie, the little girl said she wanted to go to the toilet but she was too scared to go on her own.
The babysitter didn’t want to miss the movie so she came up with a solution. She gave the girl a rubber ball and told her to keep bouncing it while she was on the toilet. That way, the babysitter would know she was OK. The little girl did as she was told and the babysitter listened to her high-pitched voice singing “Bouncy, Bouncy, Bouncy…”
Half an hour later, the babysitter started to wonder why the little girl hadn’t come back. She still heard the singing coming from the toilet: “Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy” but now the little girl’s voice sounded deeper. The babysitter reluctantly got off the sofa and went to check if everything was OK.
When she opened the bathroom door, the babysitter was horrified to find a mental patient sitting on the floor, bouncing the little girl’s head on the ground and singing “Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy…
Third Story:
Ever since my parents bought the clawfoot bathtub, I began feeling uneasy everytime I go to the toilet. My father said it was a vintage Victorian tub, but I suspected he just gotten it cheap from an old antique store. Almost everything we owned was used after all. My father could never resist a discount.
Something about the antique bath bothered me. Perhaps it was the dark, ugly reddish-brown stains on the porcelain. Maybe it was the way the gnarled cast-iron legs of the bath jutted out at an odd angle. They looked like the paws of some monstrous, misshapen beast. Sometimes, I imagined the bathtub suddenly standing up and scuttling out of the bathroom while my back was turned.
Everday, my parents seemed to argue constantly about everything. Even the slightest thing would spark a feud that lasted for hours. I couldn’t remember a time when there had been peace and quiet in the house. All day long, my parents would be at each other’s throats, having argument after argument.
Often, at night, when my parents were yelling and screaming, I would put a pillow over my head to block out the noise and cry myself to sleep. With all the chaos at home, I sometimes felt as if I was losing my mind.
Lately, I had begun to doubt my sanity more and more. Every time I went into the bathroom to take a shower or brush my teeth, I would see things out of the corner of my eye. Reflected in the mirror, I could see the clawfoot bathtub behind me.
Once, I thought I saw blood running out of the faucet. But when I turned to look, the taps weren’t running. On another occasion, I think I saw some dark, shadowy shape lying in the tub, its head barely peeking over the side. Of course, I spun around with my heart facing with fear, but the clawfoot bathtub was empty.
Whenever I undress and step into the tub to take a shower, I had the strangest sensation that I was being watched. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I felt like someone was staring at my naked body.
While I was taking a shower one night, I accidentally dropped the soap. As I bent down to pick it up from the bottom of the tub, I lost my balance and fell backwards. Suddenly, it felt as if hands were grabbing me and holding me under the water.
I was so terrified that I kicked and struggled, eventually freeing myself from the invisible paws that seemed to clutch tightly at my skin. Spluttering and gasping for air, I thought I could hear faint laughter echoing around the small bathroom.
When morning came, I decided to pay a visit to the local antique shop where my father had purchased the clawfoot bathtub. When I asked the owner about the vintage bath he had sold a few days before, I was shocked by the horrifying tale he had to tell.
Apparently, the old clawfoot bathtub dated back to the Victorian era. The man said that it had once belonged to an infamous and reviled serial killer named George Haigh. My jaw dropped and I began to shake with fear.
Haigh would lure young girls back to his house and run a bath for them. Then, while they bathed, he would spy on them through a hole he had drilled in the wall. When they least expected it, he would pounce on them and hold their heads underwater until they drowned.
The evil murderer then chopped up their bodies with an axe and disposed of the pieces in the garbage. After a number of young girls went missing in the area, his terrible deeds finally caught up with him.
A neighbor was snooping through his trash when she came across the grisly remains and contacted the police. They arrested him and put him on trial. He was found guilty and executed by hanging.
I was horrified beyond belief. I realized that I had to convince my parents to get rid of the clawfoot bathtub before something horrible happens. I ran back to my house as fast as my legs would carry me.
When I got home, I found my father sitting alone on the living-room sofa. The TV was off and the house was deadly quiet.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked him.
“She’s upstairs taking a bath”, he replied. “I’ll go check on her.”
I sat on the sofa while my father went upstairs. The house was so quiet, it unnerved me. I wasn’t used to this much silence. Suddenly, I heard a series of short sharp clunks coming from upstairs followed by slow, deliberate footsteps that echoed across the ceiling and traveled down the stairs.
My father appeared at the door to the living room. His eyes were glazed and he had an odd look on his face. Then, I noticed he was holding a bloody axe.
“Your mother’s finished”, he growled. “Now it’s your turn to take a bath”.
Ok, pastu ada satu cerita ni, aku still tak faham maksud dia. Kawan aku pun tak faham. Aku tak faham yang part "Your brother was only responsible for the death of one person". Ni ceritanya:
A girl told her friend that she had a dark secret she had been hiding for years. Her parents had been murdered when she was 15 years old. She said that her older brother had gone insane and stabbed her mother and father to death.
The friend was shocked at the terrible story she was hearing.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, comforting the girl. “What happened to your older brother after that?”
“He was arrested by the police”, said the girl. “There was a trial. I sat in the courtroom for weeks, listening to the lawyers argue their case. Eventually, my brother was convicted of murder and sentenced to be executed.”
“That’s horrible!” said the friend.
“Yes, it was,” the girl replied. “He was on death row for a long time. Then he was executed by lethal injection.”
“It must have been so difficult for you,” said the friend.
“You wouldn’t believe how hard it was”, said the girl. “I went through life in a daze. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I tried to block out the terrible memories. I suffered from depression, anxiety, even amnesia. It took me years and years to recover.”
“Have you ever talked to anyone about this before?” asked her friend.
“No, never,” replied the girl. “I have so many questions, but they’ll never be answered now. I was present at my older brother’s execution, but he never said a word. He never explained why he killed our parents. He just stared silently at me as they gave him the lethal injection.”
“There’s still a way you could get some answers,” said her friend. “I don’t know if you would be interested, but I know a woman who is a psychic. She can communicate with the dead. She’s very good. Maybe she could help you find the answers you are looking for.”
A few days later, the girl arranged to meet the psychic and consulted her about her past. The psychic turned down the lights, lit some candles and sat down in her chair. Then, she tossed back her head and went into a deep trance.
A few minutes passed and the girl sat in silence.
“Now, you may ask me any question you wish,” whispered the psychic.
“What caused my older brother to lose his mind?” asked the girl, nervously.
“Your brother was never crazy”, replied the psychic quietly. “He was always perfectly sane.”
“Then why did my older brother kill my parents?” asked the girl.
“Your brother was only responsible for the death of one person,” said the psychic.
Suddenly, the girl understood everything. She buried her face in her hands and began crying uncontrollably.
