Everyday i’m visited by two birds – Scary Creepypasta Stories


They were there ever since I could remember. As a child, I would awaken to the soft chirping
of birds filling my room. I would rustle in my blanket until I was falling
the two that sang to me, perched on the window-sill. I’d lay in bed until their song was over and
I was able to start my day, but their song carried more than just a pretty tune, they
brought me predictions. One of the birds was a dove, its beautiful
snow-white feathers caught the light of the sun so gracefully. It’s bright blue eyes, deeper than any ocean,
would observe me as I listened to its song. The dove always sang first and within its
song, would be the prediction of something good that would happen in my life. The birds didn’t actually say anything but
when their song reached my eardrums the predictions acted like memories. I could recall things that happened that day,
even though they hadn’t happened yet. The other bird was a raven. Its ruffled feathers were darker than the
spaces between the stars and seemed to soak up the sun. It has beady red eyes that reminded me of
the blood moon. After the dove was done the raven would sing
when its song reached me I would have a memory of something bad that was going to happen
that day. No one ever believed me about the birds. I would try to call my parents into the room
as they were singing but my parents never saw them. Even if they were in the room at the same
time, so my parents started referring to them as imaginary friends. Since no one else ever saw these birds I started
to believe them. It didn’t matter what I believed though, the
birds would continue to visit me like clockwork and tell their tales. Their predictions always came to pass. When I was younger the predictions were simple
and generally innocent. Like when the Dove sang that the school would
be serving pizza for lunch and the Raven retorted that I would get a papercut in math class. Sure enough, I would walk to school and at
lunch, I’d be given two slices of pizza. I’d be so content from lunch that I would
carelessly pull my textbook from my backpack and a loose page would slice my finger open. It just goes to show you how simple middle
school really was, even back then ‘bad news’ wasn’t typically that bad, the cut hurt but
it healed in no time. The Dove even told me the next morning that
I’d get ice cream for being such a brave little girl, the Raven said I’d forget my pencils
at home. Even if the predictions were things I could
easily alter, I never seemed to be able to. Like the day I just mentioned, I made a note
to grab my favorite pencil before I left. I was so focused on remembering to do it that
eventually, I sort of just thought I did until I got to school and discovered no pencils
in my backpack. As I grew older I came to understand that
what the birds considered to be ‘good’ or ‘bad’ news was relative to my outlook. For example, when I moved with my family and
was forced to attend a new high school two years into my high school education, I was
a bit of an outcast. You know the story, new kid in school becomes
the target of ridicule from the queen bee. This Queen was named Casey Matthews and I
grew to hate Casey. One morning I sat up in bed and listened to
the day’s news. When I heard that Casey Matthews was going
to fall in Gym I was a bit surprised. I thought it was weird that the Raven went
first as the Dove always took the lead. When I turned to the birds however, the Raven
had just started its song and told me that I got a failing grade on the science test. I didn’t want to think I was the type of person
who would relish in another’s pain so I dismissed it as a fluke. I had done worse than just getting a failing
grade on my test, I had gotten the lowest score in the class and was called out by the
teacher for it. I could hear Casey snickering to her friends
at the other end of the room. It put me in such a foul mood as we shuffled
off the gym-class, we had to play basketball, something I was no good at. Everyone was running back and forth as I slowly
paced from one end of the court to the other, I was watching Casey like a hawk. I wasn’t even thinking of the prediction,
I was just so fed up with her attitude. Even as everyone was trying to play the game
she mocked some of the heavier students all while barely participating. She caught me looking at her and I shot her
a fake smile, she rolled her eyes and turned away. As she turned the basketball whipped by her
head and while it didn’t hit her, it did throw her off balance. I watched as Casey Matthews frantically attempt
to keep herself upright but only managing to make the fall even worse. Her legs flew out from under her and even
though she was able to put her hands in front of her face, the meeting between her face
and the ground was audible throughout the large room. I couldn’t help but genuinely beam at the
event, biting my lip to stifle the laughter that was trying to crawl out. A few of the students ran over to help her
up and when they pull her face from the floor thin trails of blood trickled from her nose. Even from where I was standing I could tell
it had broken and would create a nasty yellow bruise all over her face. That made me happy, the Dove knew it was something
worth singing about, Casey Matthews, was a bitch. Up until now, I have kept the appearances
of my birds to myself, ever since my parents labeled them as imaginary. Lately, however, I’m becoming increasingly
uncomfortable with the songs they have been singing to me. Just about a month ago I lost my mother to
an extensive battle with cancer, I knew before I even left the bedroom that she had died. The Raven made sure of that. What did the Dove sing for that day? That my mother was no longer going to suffer. Guess one event can carry multiple weights. After she passed, I and my dad tried to carry
on, it was hard to live life without her but we decided she wouldn’t want us to dwell. The birds were kind to me, The Dove would
sing of something grand that would take place, like my uncle taking me on a short road trip. The Raven’s song would carry only small irritations,
like getting something stuck in my teeth. I needed time to heal and the birds knew that. Until my father got sick too. Only two weeks after my mom had passed her
started going in and out of consciousness and had to be hospitalized. I was so angry, I am still so angry. I couldn’t understand why I would have to
lose one parent only to watch the other start to fade. I became bitter from all of this and would
lay in bed, clutching the fabric of my sheets and when I woke in the morning I would hear
the birds singing. The Dove would sing to me that 4,307 people
were going to die in a car accident that day. I was shocked that this is something that
the Dove would tell me until the Raven informed me that dad had to spend another week in the
hospital. I’d have to suffer another week without my
dad at home but he wouldn’t be driving home that day like he was supposed too. The news boiled down to “A lot of people
are going to die today, but your dad won’t”. The way it was delivered is what worried me
and it only got worse. The next morning the Dove told me that I would
get a present in the mail and I was pleased that the Dove’s song was actually pleasant. The Raven, however, informed me that I wasn’t
the only thing that could hear their songs. I was perplexed but I couldn’t do anything
about it, I can’t converse with the birds, I can only listen. I wondered why that would be bad news. When I went to leave the house I saw the present
the Dove mentioned sitting right outside the front door. A small package poorly wrapped in hideous
green and blue paper that was dotted with various snowflakes. I brought the gift inside and pulled the paper
away from the box, sliding a knife through the tape that held it shut I revealed the
contents. I stood for a while looking at the snow white
feather that laid on the brown cardboard, a feather that held the light of the sun with
a familiar grace. The day flew by, I could only think about
the songs I heard in the morning, about what else was listening to the songs. I became so concerned that something was invading
this moment that I thought, made me special. These birds were mine and no one else was
supposed to listen to them. I wanted to get home, I wanted to sleep so
I could try to get more information from their songs. With the help of a few sleeping pills, I was
able to get to bed earlier than usual, my dreams were vivid. They were of the dark, but the dark was made
from the feathers of the Raven, they danced by me and tickled my face until I sprang up
in my bed. Immediately I turned to the birds sitting
on the window as the Dove began to sing. It told me that I was going to live to see
another morning and the Raven informed me that, it was getting closer. I got up from my bed and started walking towards
the window but as I approached the birds took off and vanished from my view. I stood and watched out of my window, the
world was unmoving like nothing wanted to earn my ire. Looking down at the window-sill I observed
something I had never noticed before. The tips of my fingers ran over the small
grooves that had been etched into the wood by the birds taking off and landing every
day. I knew then that they weren’t just something
from my head, the birds are tangible but other people just don’t see them. Foolishly, I had forgotten that the news the
birds deliver to me is based on my state of mind and what’s relevant to me. So as I continued to stress over what the
Raven was referring to, they continued to sing about it. The Dove was right, I’d live to see another
morning, several in fact. Another few days went by and no here I am. In the past few days, the songs went something
like this. The Dove sang that I wouldn’t have to water
the garden. Which was true, the rain that day did it for
me. The Raven told me that It was going to find
me that day. I don’t know if that played out but the Raven
was no liar. The next day, the Dove told me that my dad
was going to call. He did, he told me how proud of me he was
and that he hopes he gets well enough to come home soon. The Raven sang to me, while I was fidgeting
with the feather that had been delivered to me. That I was going to forget to lock the back
door. Which, I regrettably did. When I left the room after those songs I walked
downstairs to find tracks of mud all through the house leading to my door. I couldn’t decide on what the tracks were,
they didn’t look like anything a human could leave behind but the path it took didn’t seem
like an animal. It ignored the garbage, dirty dishes in the
sink and the fridge. All things I assume a scavenger would be interested
in. I couldn’t figure out why it had stopped at
my door. I still don’t know. Yesterday, the Dove sang to me and told me
that it- the Dove told me that it would always watch over me. The Raven said that they couldn’t protect
me. The birds didn’t leave the window for a while
after their songs. They just kept chirping away, like they wanted
me to remember what they sounded like. All of yesterday, I did my best to be productive. I went to see my dad, we talked for a long
time and he asked about the birds. He asked me what they said would happen. I told him they didn’t really say anything
too special. He laughed, and then he asked me about the
dog. For a minute I was confused, I thought possibly
his mind was wandering so I pressed about it. He told me that before I told them about the
birds at my window, I would wake them up crying every night about the dog in my room. He couldn’t remember how I described it with
my limited vocabulary, only that it was as horrific as a child could make it. He told me he and mom would console me every
night. I started to remember as he went over the
details, the memory playing in my head as if sung by the birds. The black pajamas my dad would wear, the white
flowing gown mom wore to bed, how I would run to their room every night. How they both held me and told me that they
would always watch over me. My parents always tried their best to keep
me safe, my mom taught me to see the brighter side of things and my dad, always stern, taught
me the negatives were important too. After my mother passed away, the birds started
to get weaker and with my dad’s fading health, I just don’t think their songs are loud enough
anymore. I left the hospital and returned home to finish
cleaning the house. Every inch of it spotless. As I sat in my room last night and watched
out the window I could see it in the yard looking back at me. I understood why as a child I called it a
dog. That was probably all I could come up with
and even now I don’t know what else to call it. I couldn’t see it too well in the dark but
whatever it is was hunched over on all fours but its body was large and looked to have
scraps of skin peeling off of it. The things eyes were yellow and glowing like
spotlights, I’m glad I didn’t have to see it in great detail. I wanted to write this all down before it
gets too dark, this morning I woke up and listened to the songs my birds sang to me. I tried not to spend all day in bed, I tried
to think of some way to go against the predictions but it’s never worked before. So I did my best to make peace and try to
get down what I could, put it out there. I called my dad and told him I loved him and
now here I am. The songs playing in my head over and over. The Raven sang to me that the creature would
be in my room tonight like it had been when I was a child. The Dove told me, that I would be with my
mother, once more.

100 thoughts on “Everyday i’m visited by two birds – Scary Creepypasta Stories

  1. Remember to Like, Share and leave a comment! <3
    This narration is more focusing on the narration and background music as apposed to lots of SFX, let me know what you think

  2. Love your vids and all the effort you put into them, keep it up man you’re one of my favorite youtubers

  3. If you're going to show off with that over the top intro, please show off your editing skills and make it so the end of your intro and the start of your video are the same volume.

  4. How do you always pick the best story's, in my years of lisenting to creepypastas this is the only one that has touched me in such a profound way. Please continue making these great🤧 narrations

  5. Man i really love your stories the way you narrate them just brings it to life within my mind like I'm apart of the story, keep up the amazing work dude!

  6. Great to see how you've progressed. I've been subbed for a couple years now and knew you would do well. Remember the little people who have always supported and believed in you.

  7. Damn……I feel bad for the kid and his dad!!! Because he might recover but lose his child!!! Great story btw. Always loved your work Dark Somnium!!!

  8. Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

    Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

        While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

    As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

    “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

                Only this and nothing more.”

        Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

    And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

        Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

        From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

    For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

                Nameless here for evermore.

        And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

    Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

        So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

        “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

    Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

                This it is and nothing more.”

        Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

    “Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

        But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

        And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

    That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

                Darkness there and nothing more.

        Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

    Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

        But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

        And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

    This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

                Merely this and nothing more.

        Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

    Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

        “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

          Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

    Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

                ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

        Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

    In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

        Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

        But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

    Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

                Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

    Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

    By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

    “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

    Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

    Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

                Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

        Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

    Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

        For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

        Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

    Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

                With such name as “Nevermore.”

        But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

    That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

        Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

        Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—

    On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”

                Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

        Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

    “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

        Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

        Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

    Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

                Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

        But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

    Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

        Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

        Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

    What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

                Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

        This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

    To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

        This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

        On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

    But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

                She shall press, ah, nevermore!

        Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

    Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

        “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

        Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

    Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

                Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

        “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

    Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

        Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

        On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

    Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

                Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

        “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

    By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

        Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

        It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

    Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

                Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

        “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

    “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

        Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

        Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

    Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

                Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

        And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

    On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

        And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

        And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

    And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

                Shall be lifted—nevermore!

  9. This mans death could have been stoped so easily he could have slept at his dads hospital or stayed over at some freinds okay u werent abel to alter simple things befor but this is life or death and what possible way can u stop a person from sleeping outside his house

  10. Ive been listening to creepypastas for years about 3 years actually and ive subbed to 1 channel and thats your channel

  11. What a narration, what a story, mate, you are so, so, so talented, not only in you voice and emotions you put in, but on your original soundtrack as well! Your content is unique, and I really love it! All the best to you!

  12. Wanna see how to bold your words? Just put * before a sentence then after. It'll bold everything inbetween the things. Like this. reeeee

  13. this was a really good one. i found it very unsettling and peaceful at the same time. the way the ending was so at ease even with the knowledge of the outcome, it gave me the chills jaskasjlkslkas

  14. I absolutely love your videos can’t wait to see the next one and the next one. I can’t get enough of your stories♥️

  15. U may not believe me but I'm Mr blacksAAs son he told me to check u out and he was not wrong check his subscriptions in there

  16. Absolutely delicious. Love the overtone to the whole story and the idea of the birds is both very creepy and beautifully entrancing. This story approaches Lovecraft levels of cosmic horror and unknown confusion, which makes for an enticing read. Well met.

    My regards.

  17. I had to come back and hear this again it's just too good haha.
    …I'll just slip away now while no ones watching…
    army tumbles away

  18. I love this story. Wonderfully written, and wonderfully narrated. I love the representation of the mother dressed in a white gown, and focusing on the positives as the white dove did; and the father dressed in his black pajamas reminding them that the negatives were also important, just like the black raven did. I love that, that was exquisite. And the ending truly gave me goosebumps. Fantastic job. <3

  19. Dude I was just watching a compilation of videos, was half way through and it stopped. Now I can't find it. Not cool at all, just not cool. Love u and ure channel. Thankful 4 all ubdo 4 us but this sucks.

  20. What happened to your The Things in The Woods story it vanished in the middle of me listening to it???

  21. What a deep story. I’ve been listening for months now every night. I just can’t stop because your narrations are so good. Thanks.

  22. Man, you deserve all of the subscribers you have and much more. Sound effects are super dope and the narration is really clear which helps the emotions come through stronger.

  23. Love it mate I always love your soothing voice when I'm busy hallucinating spooky shit.

  24. Great narration on what is a truly amazing story. Bone chilling ending. Check out the OP AuthorJoJo on Reddit guys, you won't be disappointed

  25. Good work on your channel hon, please keep it up ^^ Just a tiny comment: "everyday" as one word is an adjective only. (For example: "It's an everyday occurrence.") Otherwise, it should be two words ("Every day I'm visited by two birds.") To be fair, sadly, very sadly, it's rare these days that anyone online gets this right….

  26. That intro was dope. Also that music is very nice and sets the mood very well. You're very good at what you do Somnium. Also love your music

  27. Holy holy HOLLLLLLLY….these chills are no joke. I’m really not sure how you can do this every video. You have a 100% success rate which is so hard to do. Your narration is fantastic as well. Everything is perfect. Man I can’t wrap my head around this stuff hahaha keep it up please!!!

  28. I know I shouldn't laugh but the first two sentences sounded like something straight out a disney princess movie. With the birds chirping and singing 😂😂😂 Anyway, it was a really great story. I love your voice 😍. Keep up the good work 😊

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