hello, if any of you have creepypasta stories you can post them here.my deviantart is AnimeArtist200 and the story is on there too. heres mine to get it started:

Elizabeth

(Pt1) There was nothing more than a spot to paint on her mask and the bell already rang. It was a project that was for her AP Art class. Elizabeth was sure that she was going to get an A on this piece of work. She was an active artist, always drawing or making sculptures. "Elizabeth!" Her friend called out to her from across the room. "I'm just about done, hold your horses." She said with determination. She put the last brush stroke down on the mask. "Okay done" Elizabeth said, She picked up the mask and held it gently as she walked over to her friend, Tina. "Let me see!" Tina jerked her arm. "Fine." Elizabeth held up the object to reveal a white mask that had black lips and black edges around the eyes. "It looks like Jane the Killers mask!" Tina started to jump and fangirl. "That was the idea but I think I'll make it better after I get a grade to make sure I won't mess it up." Elizabeth said with a soft tone, Tina nodded in approval and waved goodbye. It was the end of the day and she was ready to go home and take some pictures of her new creation. "Oh! Liz! I won't be over today!" Tina yelled as she walked away. Elizabeth waved at her to show she understood and started to walk to her special shack not far from her house. It was old and falling apart but this was where she could do something she really loved, more than art itself, burning things. She always carried a lighter in her red jacket that she wore everyday. Her lucky lighter helped her burn old art that she hated, leaves, old homework and every thing she saw that wasn't worthy to be in this world. She took out her Walkman and put in her earbuds, Music and fire were her version of therapy. One day, she would eventually burn down the old shack before it falls to make sure it wouldn't be destroyed without her having the satisfaction of her doing it herself. The shack creaked in the breeze, today was the day. She grabbed her mask and took out her old homework and lighter. "Time to burn shit." She never used profanity in front of anyone else but the shack. Elizabeth put the papers on the floor and sparked her lighter. She set it close to the papers and they started to burn. "Yes..." Elizabeth whispered and ran out with her mask. Sitting away a safe distance, she watched her shack turn slowly into nothing but ashy crisp and crackling wood. It was beautiful, the colors of fire and its motion dancing around the old cracked wood, It splintered and cracked under the pressure. Her phone vibrated alerting her that she got a text. It read, "Are you burning shit again?, that's a lot of smoke..." it was from her older brother, Arron. From his bedroom window he can see her, or at least the smoke of when she burns things. She texted back, "I'm burning the shack, it was time. I'm a safe distance. Be home in about two hours, want to make sure the fire goes out." Sitting there for an hour listening to her music and watching the bright lights dancing from the fire and dark red and black smoke, She began to cry as it was an emotional sight. She reached for her mask and put it on, no one must see her cry. It was a good long three hours before the fire finally died down. Sad and yet relieved, she started to stroll home. Her house was just on the corner of 444th St. It wasn't much and it looked like an abusive household to anyone, which it was. Elizabeths hand reached for the door, but it opened for her.


(Pt2) "Where the fuck were you?" Arron was worried and he was the only one that was worried about her lateness or her in general. "Had to make sure it burned out." She stood there with her mask now back in her hand as he sighed. "Just text me if you are going to be late, Fire is dangerous and I was worried that you got hurt." She walks in the dull house and sighs. Her dad was sitting in front of the TV again. Elizabeth glanced at him. Thats the only father-daughter relationship she will ever get. She hated the smell of his cigarettes and wandering eye for woman. Her mother was nonexistent except for at late at night when she comes home from drinking. Elizabeth is the normal one in the family, the one that likes to lie to her friend and burn things. Arron, even with his caring personality, didn't really take care of himself. Elizabeth started to walk up to her room when something caught her eye. Her mother was home and walking to the kitchen. A rare sight. She had to investigate. "Oh! Heeeey there dalin!" She was piss drunk so its not too surprising. "Hey mom, what are you doing home?." Elizabeth had a normal relationship with her mom before Elizabeth's dad cheated multiple times and her mother started drinking. Her mother took the mask that was in Elizabeths hand and that's when she became nervous. "Cools, It's pweetty, wittle Miss. Feiodé, you ill get an A!" Her mother looked at her drink and accidentally dropped the mask. A shatter of clay from the top right crumbled off. Worst part is she didn't even notice her mistake and went back to bed with a bottle. Elizabeth sighed, cleaned up the mess and kept the now partly broken mask. She already had her therapy today, and that won't happen again now that her shack is burned down. Maybe she could burn something else she thought. Something bigger to cover the damage of her family. She asked her Arron to go to the store for some new paint, her favorite red paint. She felt that he was one of the things right with this family. By the time he left, both mom and dad were already fast asleep from alcohol and sleeping pills. They shouldn't get up even if they smell smoke. She saw a painting in the hallway she always hated and put her lighter up to it. The oil in the paint made it easy to burn and it made the fire different colors. "Beautiful." She whispered with a cold, dead tone. The fire then spread to the wall and the string kept the burning painting up snapped apart due to the heat. The painting fell on Elizabeths face and shoulders. She screamed in agony and quickly swiped the burning painting away. Holding her head in her hands she stumbled out to the living room. There were now burn scars and marks on her face. Once it hits her moms room, where her mom was sleeping, it would hit the alcohol and explode in a quick move. Elizabeth put her mask on over her red face and tears of pain to cover the burns when she heard her father wake up, the heat making him uncomfortable. She quickly covered his mouth, put one finger to her mouth and shushed him. With her right hand she grabbed a bottle of vodka and smashed it over his head, the glass shattered with the remaining vodka pour on him and knocked his sorry ass out. Taking his lighter, she left through the backdoor and kept walking until her house was fully engulfed in the deep crimson, cool orange and other colored streaks. "Things that are unworthy to be in this world should be burned by me."

Within a week, everyone was talking about the fire at the Feiodé house. The remaining member of the family was her older brother. People questioned to where Elizabeth was. Most thought she was dead from the size of the fire. The police knew that she was still alive since no other remains were found besides that of the mother and father. This was the first of many house fires these days. Some reported seeing a girl with long brown hair in a ponytail with a red jacket and a white mask walking around at night in the area. If anyone was close enough to her, they could see through the eye holes in the mask and see vacant brown eyes right before they were burned alive.