Creepypasta Child Scenarios

Wallflower Blooming...

The surface of the table was sticky under her fingertips. It wasn't as gross as it could've been when you shared a home with an unhinged clown who often forgets or outright refuses to clean up after his various attempts at melted marshmallow sculptures. (Y/N) was almost expecting to hear Slender's disgusted and utterly exasperated complaint about gathering ants. She always found it amusing how her family   a group of guys made up of unmatched killers, grew twitchy when a bug made its way into the manor. Especially Slender.

The air was thick with the blend of greasy pizza and sweet milkshakes. It was a classic pizza parlor smell that (Y/N) didn't detest entirely. But she had no intention of actually eating anything. When Jonah texted her that morning asking her to meet him, (Y/N) found herself wracked with a sudden illness of writhing nerves, butterflies, and heart palpitations. Fortunately, Uncle Eyeless assured her he didn't detect any fatal scents on her. But when someone says 'we need to talk' out of the blue, it's never a good sign. (Y/N) spent all morning wondering what Jonah could've possibly wanted from her. Maybe he just wanted to tell her that Caitlyn gotten herself arrested. It would explain why (Y/N) hadn't heard from her in almost three days. Last she knew, Caitlyn had the dream of wanting to steal all the guinea pigs from different pet shops so people couldn't experiment on them. A solid dream (Y/N) thought, one she could get behind and support like a good friend should, but God was it a poor plan. What do you tell a cop when you get pulled over with a trunk full of squeaking guinea pigs? But it was the kind of news Jonah might've wanted to tell her in person, she supposed.

Which was what lead her there in the first place; sitting at an unclean, wobbly table in the far back of the pizza place. (Y/N) sat with her back against the wall where she could more or less see the entirety of the restaurant and more importantly, the two exits. She hadn't been waiting long, but already someone's been by to ask if there was anything he could bring her. Twice. (Y/N) thought it weird since this wasn't the type of place that brought your order out to you. This was more of an 'over the counter' joint. But this kid, with his vague familiar face, was gearing himself up to wander his way back over to her table for a third time. He was a beanpole of a boy who mustered up enough courage to introduce himself as Bernard and mention he was working part-time a this hole in the wall place. He even insisted on his good reputation with his supervisor and was pretty sure he could get just about anything he wanted for a reasonable discount. It never occurred to Bernard that (Y/N) wasn't listening because he helped himself to the empty seat across from her and draped a gangly arm over the back of it stating that they shared a study hall together. His shirt might've been white once upon a time. Now it was stained here and there with red sauce and obvious pit stains. His square face was pale and made the peppering spots of acne stand out in stark contrast. He even spent a grand total of two minutes bragging about how quickly his moustache was growing in. His 'moustache' being the four wiry hairs sprouting above his lip. "So," Bernard cleared his throat as if that would keep his voice from sounding like a balloon being squeezed. He wiggled two bushy eyebrows at her when she begrudgingly dragged her eyes up from the modern marvel that served as her saving grace until this point; her phone. And when her frigid gaze met his for that fraction of a second, Bernard perked right up and let his hand crawl across the tabletop. His fingers reminded her of stringy spider legs, making a reach for her own. And for a moment, (Y/N) thought she'd have to break them. Such imaginings must've reflected on her face because those fingers quickly retracted. "The dance?" Bernard cleared his throat again and tried to drop his voice an octave, "Sound good?"

(Y/N) wanted to wait outside. If Jonah didn't show up in another five minutes, she was going home. At this rate, her patience was simply not going to hold out. It felt as if she'd been sitting at that unwashed table for a lifetime. Two lifetimes ever since Bernard decided to mosey on over and make himself comfortable and talk her ear off in one go. (Y/N) brushed her (Y/C/H) hair back with her fingers and went back to scrolling through Pintrest.