It happened literally a minute ago as I'm writing this. This is probably going to cause some problems with the overall timeline of the story, but I don't care to check over it, so just don't think about it. Also, yeah, this is 100% real. The spooky spaghetti will tickle your feet while you sleep >:3. So my story starts when my dad made me a big plate of spaghetti. Being my favorite food, I scarfed it down as fast
as I could. After that I got four more plates. But then my dad called me to lecture me about eating too much Spaghetti, so I walked over to him. While I was gone my cat knocked my plates of spaghetti into the vat of toxic waste that I always have lying next to my kitchen table. I came back crying after my dad told me to stop eating spaghetti, only to find my cat dead with his belly cut open and blood pouring off the table, but now that I think about it, it was probably marinara. I went to my cat and cried. We had a formal funeral for her the same day, and president Donald Trump came as well. My cat meant everything to me, and now she was gone. I missed by cat. I needed my cat back. I was so emotionally connected to this character. You should be too despite them never being mentioned until they died. Feel something, I beg of you. After I came home, a lust for revenge coursed through my veins. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. I stabbed my father five times in the neck. He was deader than the Spaghet meme, I tell ya. I killed my mother next, than my brother, than my XBOX. I killed everything in my house. The weird part was there was no blood, just marinara. The only time it made sense was when it came out of my XBOX, which I frequently shove spaghetti into. Then it happened, a monster made out of Spaghetti came out from under my couch. He hit me in the face with boxing gloves like five times. Then he three away his boxing gloves and slapped me. I screamed, 'Why daddy, WHY!?" He didn't listen, only hit me, but then I grabbed my katana and stabbed it right in its meat-a-ball. He didn't seem to be hurt. Instead he threw my lego collection at me. I cried. My lego's meant everything to me. He then ripped off my arm, and marinara poured out. I told him off for ripping off my arm, which was very rude. But all he did was attempt to strangle me. Then I remembered, I had bought a haunted sonic game from a man at the black market. I turned on my husk of an XBOX that had the game inside. A Sonic with red glowing eyes came out of the TV and ripped the Creepypasta in half. He then attempted to murder me, but I shot him in the face with my nerf gun, killing him. Then the police stormed my house and arrested me for killing my entire family. I;m writing this from jail, because apparently prison inmates are given computers. Isn't that interesting? Ok, buh bye, I'm gonna go make a website called Creepypasta.com.