The Road of the Dead (creepypasta)

I call it the Road of the Dead.

This happened when I was in 6th grade. I had a teacher I couldn't stand, and honestly the feeling was mutual. She blamed everything on me no matter what happened, and my parents completely took her side every single time. So the blame just kept piling onto me.

"Why won't you listen to your teacher? I'm so done. I just want to die."

My mom used to say that constantly. Like a reflex. Kids pick up their parents' habits, and the uglier the phrase, the more it sticks. I was no different.

"Ugh, I hate school. I wanna die."

"This food sucks. I wanna die."

Any time something annoyed me, that's what came out of my mouth. Same as her.

Then one day my mom HEARD me say it. And she goes:

"If you wanna die so bad, you might as well just do it."

She said. SHE SAID that. To her kid.

I ran out of the house barefoot. Just sprinted. Ended up on the mountain trail near our neighborhood, screaming into the air.

"Fine! I'll die! Watch me! I'll actually do it!"

And then, mid-sprint, a path appeared on my left.

I knew that trail. I'd walked it a hundred times. But this path felt completely new, like I'd never seen it before in my life. At the far end of it, tiny lights floated in the air, like fireflies. And behind them, a church. Old and faded, the color drained out of it.

Something about that sight scared me so badly I turned and ran all the way home.

When I got back, my dad was screaming at my mom. And I'd never, not once in my life, seen him that angry.

"There are things you say to your own child and things you DON'T. How do you not know the difference?!"

So she told him. While I was gone.

A few years later, I was drowning in it again. Suicidal. No specific reason this time. Just... exhausted by everything. The same days repeating. My body and mind slowly wearing down. I was wandering the streets at night muttering "I want to die, I want to die" under my breath.

Then I smelled it. Trees. Dirt. Forest.

I looked into the gap between two buildings.

And there it was.

The same floating lights, tiny and glowing. The same old, colorless church at the end of the path.

That's when I understood what it was. A road that finds you when you want to die. It calls to people like that.

I shoved through the crowd and ran from it. In that moment I was more scared of dying than I'd ever been. Like maybe you don't actually feel how much you want to live until death gets close enough to look at you.

That was about ten years ago now.

I still see it sometimes.

The difference from back then? The church door at the end of the path... it's slowly opening.

Maybe someday it'll be open all the way.