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I’ve always wanted to become a photographer. But, my family is far too poor. We live on a farm, and my parents are drowning in debt, and I have to pay for my own necessities (shampoo, clothing, etc..) My father barely comes out of his office, he just wants to find a way to pay for our taxes and pay for our debts. My mother lives in her bakery trying to get money to pay the taxes, our farm can’t pay for everything. All I wanted was a camera for my sixteenth birthday. And my mom found a lady on the side of the road, trying to sell a camera for twenty dollars.

My mother made me promise her that I will never get rid of it, no matter what I see in the lens if she purchases this camera. I promised her, “I promise, mom, not I hope you realize how insane you sound.”

How much do I regret that? So much it’s unbearable. This camera made me promise something I couldn’t do.

I just got the camera to work! I’ve had it for a day and a half, but the flash wouldn’t work. I thought the light might’ve broke, which would be a real shame especially if I want to take pictures in the dark. Turns out it wasn’t (thankfully), I don’t know why it wouldn’t work though.

When I went through the memory I saw some odd pictures, most of them were blurry and looked like the photographer was in a rush. Every time a human and animal body mixed together was in every photo. It looked like it was edited but, this camera is old, it’s from the 1900's, and I don’t believe they have cameras with highly enhanced photo editing. I thought about asking my mom, but she’d probably just say, “Figure it out, you’re the one who wanted it,”.

The camera has been taking pictures on its own. I know, I sound crazy but, sometimes when I’m eating breakfast it will just flash. My mom says because it’s old it may have an issue where it will take pictures on its own. I looked it up, and the website isn’t a specific name but the URL is, https;//i-don', and the article said it wasn’t odd for old cameras to randomly take pictures. That let me take a breath, it would have been a shame if the camera was broken. Especially if I have only had it for a week and a half.

Continuing on with the research my eye caught an article, an article about my camera. It had the same lens, the same dent to the right of the lens. It was the exact same 1973 Nikon camera. Shaking my head repeatedly, my hair flying everywhere, trying to focus on the article in front of me was growing to be a lot harder with the tears brimming. My breathing became more shallow, and my breathing was short. I found an article that made my breath hitch in my throat.


News-Times Weekly


‘Family of three found dead.

February 22nd, 1973, a family of three was found in their attic dead, presumably murdered.  The family had many things scattered around their small house, saying as there most definitely was a fight. The phrase, “Smile, your on camera!” was written, in what was soon to be found as the family’s blood. The family was supposedly murdered a few days prior to being found. The family’s neighbor reported the family not coming out of the house for the last few days and heard screams and cries on the same day the family was supposedly murdered, the neighbor claims he didn’t see anyone enter the house. The only object left untouched was the newest camera model, a 1973 Nikon camera.’


I looked at the large bold words on my mother’s laptop, trying to collect this information. Dear lord, how I wish I didn’t look down. What I saw next, made bile rise into my throat. The family was sitting on a sofa, their bodies sewn and stitched into a pose, as if saying ‘I love my family!’. As I ran to the nearest area to throw up, I unconsciously looked back at the screen, getting a good look at their faces. What I saw made my heart stop beating. The family, which was horribly and brutally murdered, was smiling, they should be completely terrified, not joyful. I let out a shrill scream, a few octaves higher than I normally talked in.

“What in the world, Juniper?!” My mother shrieked, her footsteps echoing throughout the house. I was almost completely positive I looked completely deranged, my hair was a mess, I was in shorts and a tank top, I had a face covered with tears and I sat next to my own puke.   I shook and looked at my mom with a terrified expression, “We need, to get rid of that camera,”

I screeched and took a glance at the camera, it sat there like it was the best. “Why in the world would you do that? Did I not just buy you that?” She looked at me begrudgingly, making me pity myself more.

I fumbled with my words talking ever so fast as tears pricked the corner of my eyes, “Mom, I swear the camera, its evil! We have to get rid of it before the same happens to us!”. I looked at her with a hopeful expression,  tears running along my cheeks.

“I swear, you're never grateful! My lord, Juniper I don’t want to play these games!” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Honey, please just go outside and cool off, I don’t want to hear why you look as if you escaped a prison,” My mother sighed for the 5th time and walked away, the anger she bottled up, radiating off her figure.

I started sobbing, my arms unconsciously wrapping around my figure as I cradled myself. One thought on my mind, ‘I am going to die.’, that camera has something attached to it. A human being couldn’t have tortured people like that, it was far too inhumane. I glanced at the counter, where the camera was previously located, to find it missing. I whipped my head around after hearing a large bang resonate throughout my house, to find my camera on the ground.

My breath became short and far too forced for comfort, and then I blacked out.

I woke up in a fever and ragged breaths.  I was still sitting in a ball on the ground, as I scrunch my nose up in disgust at the horrendous smell. When my memories started coming back, I still felt terrified. Running out of the back door, I went to my comfort zone.

It was a simple cafe, but I’ve gone there for all my problems. Once I sat down and ordered my favorite coffee, I slipped my hand into my hoodie pocket. I raised a brow at the large bulky item that was in my pocket. Fiddling with the item, tediously pulling it out of my pocket, I wanted to call for help. I wanted to scream, to run, to hide, to live.  I suppressed the urge to scream, biting my lip. I speed walked out of the cafe, I didn’t pay, as I may die tonight.

I stormed into the house, my mom and dad yelling at me to tell them what was the matter. “I’m so sorry,” I sighed and walked upstairs to try and destroy the satanic camera.  Water may as well be my best bet, hopefully destroying any wiring it had left in it. I was horrified to have to touch the camera, let alone destroy it. I sighed quite irritated by the fact that it didn’t work, but more scared.

I ran a hand through my greasy and unwashed hair. Nothing had worked. I was terrified, to say the least, but sighed as if I was the most annoyed person on the planet.  “Nothing's going to break a camera, what else can I do?” I started to tear up.

“I’m as good as dead, please lord, god, whatever you are! Help me!” I screamed at nothing and sat on my bed, sobs racking my chest.

“Juniper, get out of your room! You haven’t come out of your room in days for god knows what!” My dad yelled and pounded his fist on the door, as I was unfazed by this action.

“Dad, leave me alone!” I yelled at him, slightly annoyed at his demand.

I just wanted to be left alone, for the next few hours. The camera incident still shocking my brain. How did it get into my pocket, why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? Am I going to die, are my parents going to die?

All I wanted was a camera.

That’s what I told myself, trying to keep myself sane with questions. Hoping that would work, I asked more and more. Not realizing I was talking out loud, my parents walked into my room with terrified expressions. My father in one hand was terrified and looked enraged, his jaw clenched and his fists squeezed tightly together. My mother was covering her mouth while tears streamed down her face, shaking her head not believing what I was saying. I figured from their reactions that I sounded and looked insane, mumbling questions and theories, while my hair looked like a rat nest, my clothes looked like they haven’t been washed in weeks, and my face looked horrible. I had bags underneath my eyes, old and new tears on my face, cracked lips, and a runny nose. To put it simple, crazed.

“My god Juniper! What has happened to you? Where’s my baby!?” She croaked, her eyes becoming covered by her hand not believing the person in front of her was me.  My father looked too shocked or disturbed to talk, his mouth now slightly agape.

I sighed and looked the other way, “If I told you you’d think I am crazy!” I responded with a harsh tone.

“You won’t talk to me and your mother like that young lady! Apologize!” My dad yelled at me, his face was rather unreadable saying as it was almost pitch black in my room. I could tell he was infuriated by what I said.

“We’ll going to die anyway, what’s the point?” I questioned with a small sob.

That’s when we all heard it,  an inhuman scream. I looked at my parents and started sobbing, small cries for help thrown into the mix. My father and mother had deserted the room, my father to see what it was and my mother to hide in her room. I sat huddled into my own little ball, crying and yelling ‘go away!’ and ‘leave me alone!’. There was no point, I knew that deep down.

Hearing my dad’s shrill scream, resulted in my sobbing to become louder, I could barely catch my breath. Hearing footsteps I looked up, regretting my decision.

The monster didn’t look like a monster, but at the same time, it did. I don’t know if words could explain what it looked like. It looked directly at me and grinned. It started walking (or crawling I couldn’t tell) towards my parents' room. I was too shocked to move, fear also a very high factor as to why I couldn’t.

I wanted to scream at it to come for me, but hearing a very high pitch scream originate from my parents’ room had me running for the door. As I was running I started to dial 911, hopefully, then the monster won’t come for me. As I put the phone to my ear, ear-piercing static was emitting from the other end and resulted of me throwing the phone away from my now ringing ear.

I ran out the front door, jumping off the steps in hope that would get me farther away from the creature. I was dead wrong. The creature (who was extremely fast) had caught up and dragged me to my attic. My father and mother looked dead but had their bodies stitched up to look like they were the happiest people alive. All that was missing was another person, in the middle.

Almost instantaneously I knew that spot was meant for me. I started to thrash around and scream at a high pitch voice, hoping our neighbor might hear me. The monster held up a clawed hand, that had a needle on the end instead of a finger. I started to cry and scream more, kicking and punching the monster with my small feet and hands. Deep down I knew I couldn’t win against the monster. The last thing I saw before it started t9 sew my eyes closed were the words, ‘Smile, Your On Camera.’.




“March 7th, 2019,

A family of three found murdered in the attic. Officials claim there are no murder weapons or fingerprints that have been recovered. The family was found hours after the attack. We warn all families in the neighborhood to be on the lookout for any suspicious persons. The police also found written in the families blood, ‘Smile Your On Camera.’. Another odd object police found was a 1973 Nikon Camera, that looked completely untouched. But had the photos of the family before and after they were killed. This is Mykeal Nicole signing off!”.


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