Sleepless nights are less cause of love and more cause of horror stories these days. Here is a compilation of some of the short scary stories you’ll ever read. If you’re looking forward to a night of sleeplessness, read on.
Don’t Look behind while reading these short scary stories.
Here are 11 short scary stories for tonight:-
1. I live alone
2. Monsters Under the bed
3. A Young Girl story
4. Son Scream
5. My daughter short scary story
7. Motherhood short scary story
8. Clock Man short scary story
9. The Old Women – Short scary story
10. My Brother Short Scary Story
11. Two Sentence Short Horror Story
Another one – I hate it when my brother Charlie has to go away. My parents constantly try to explain to me how sick he is. That I am lucky for having a brain where all the chemicals flow properly to their destinations like undammed rivers. When I complain about how bored I am without a little brother to play with, they try to make me feel bad by pointing out that his boredom likely far surpasses mine, considering his confine to a dark room in an institution. I always beg for them to give him one last chance. Of course, they did at first. Charlie has been back home several times, each shorter in duration than the last. Every time without fail, it all starts again. The neighborhood cats with gouged out eyes showing up in his toy chest, my dad’s razors found dropped on the baby slide in the park across the street, mom’s vitamins replaced by bits of dishwasher tablets. My parents are hesitant now, using “last chances” sparingly. They say his disorder makes him charming, makes it easy for him to fake normalcy, and trick the doctors who care for him into thinking he is ready for rehabilitation. That I will just have to put up with my boredom if it means staying safe from him. I hate it when Charlie has to go away. It makes me have to pretend to be good until he is back.
I did not kill a man when I was eight years old My stepfather hated everything my mother loved. Not just me, or her hobbies, and hell, probably himself too, but everything that made her happy. But Apollo he hated more than anything. I was five when me and mom got Apollo, a skinny skittish puppy at the time. He was patient with me – toddlers aren’t always nice – but he worshipped mom. The little I remember of that time was happiness. I was seven when that man moved in. He didn’t tolerate happiness in the house. He kicked Apollo for being “too loud”, and soon kicked me as well. After almost losing a finger, he learned not to hit us when Apollo was there. If he had known that I had noticed that he feared the dog, he would have beat me for noticing. He hated weakness, and it was always someone else’s fault if he didn’t like how he was feeling. After a while, he started ordering me to herd Apollo into another room and close the door when he wanted to beat my mother. Apollo would bark, howl, and claw the door when it happened – the neighbors called animal protection three times, but never called the police. Some dogs can open doors. Apollo wasn’t one of them. I did not kill a man when I was eight years old. All I did was open a door.