Creepypasta 3 Petrified

This can't be.

It can't be true.

Is this his idea of a prank?

Please.

Please be a prank.

Why?

Why him?

What did he do so wrong to deserve this?

Just...no...

Brother? Please.

These we're the thoughts that went through my head as I witnessed the scene in front of me. A dead body. No sorry, THE dead body of my brother, Sam. Covered with blood and claw marks. Who could have possibly done this?

Then, I heard it.

I heard a sick, evil, chuckle come from the closet. I'm terrified. If not, petrified. I don't move. I don't blink. I don't breathe. I can't breathe. Whoever did this must be in the closet. I'm scared. Terrified. Petrified. I'm scared as a ant about to be crushed by the sole of a human foot. Scared as an antler noticing a tiger, looking at it, but unable to move. Scared as a deer about to be shot by a hunter. Scared, as a girl, who just witnessed her brother's dead body, covered in blood.

I'm scared, because I realized two things.

1) This person, who I heard in the closet, could be the one who did this.

2) I've heard it's voice before. Chuckling every single time I try to sleep. Whispering, "Don't be scared. It's only me."

"WHO'S THERE!!??" I shouted only then realizing that this was probably not the best course of action.

"PELE ELIZABETH ELLIS, COME DOWN THIS INSTANT!" I heard my mom shout from the bottom of the staircase. I go downstairs. As soon as I reach the bottom step, my mom asks, "First screaming, then shouting a random question? What's going on?"

"Mommy, please come upstairs. Something happened to Sam." I urged my mom whilst dragging her by the arm upstairs.

"Jeez louis. What on Earth could be so important? Did Sam die or something?" My mom concluded with a worried expression set on her face

Silence.

"Pele? What happened?"

I slowly open Sam's bedroom door.

I tell my mom to go to the bed.

I pull down Sam's covers.

Sam is...alive?

Wait...how is this possible? Am I going mad?

"Well, what is it?" my mom said abruptly, interrupting my train of thoughts.

"Can I ask you something mom?"

"...sure..."

"Am I going mad?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I screamed because...well...I thought I saw Sam, murdered, with blood...everywhere..."

My mom pulls me into a tight embrace.

"Nothing is wrong. You're just imagining things. Now come, we still have to finish cleaning out the attic."

As my mom leaves the room, my eyes tear up. They teared up because I heared it again. The chuckle. The voice. Saying,

"Don't be scared. It's only me"...