DISCLAIMER!!! I do NOT own any of the Creepypastas and all credits go to their rightful owners!
If there are some differences though, it just means I edited them.
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"Time takes it all, whether you want it to or not, and in the end there is only darkness. Sometimes we find others in that darkness. Sometimes we lose them there again."
-Stephen King, "The Green Mile"
***
I'm a grown woman and I'm well past needing my father to come save me, but even so I wish he were here now. I guess I never realized before just how much he's always been there for me. Sometimes I wonder—
Wait, let me start from the beginning.
When I was six years old, I became obsessed with seeing the pirate show.
I overheard a kid at school talking about it. He said it was a puppet show about a little girl who's friends with pirates, and that it was on in the afternoon. Once I heard that, I had to see it. You know how little kids get obsessed with one particular thing for no reason? For me that thing was pirates. I'm still not sure why but, hey, I was six.
The boy did not want to tell me what channel it was on, but after I pestered him enough he gave in. After school I ran to the TV to wait for four o'clock, but when the time came nothing was there; the channel was just static. I flipped through all the stations looking for the show. The next day I accused the boy of making the whole thing up, but another girl in the class said no, the show was real, she'd seen it too. I asked her why I couldn't find it and she didn't have an answer. The boy said that really I shouldn't watch it anyway, but he would not say why, and after that he stopped talking to me at all.
Every day at four I sat in front of the TV, hoping that the pirate show would magically appear. I even asked Dad to call the local affiliate and ask about it (Dad would do almost anything for me...), but they said they'd never heard of it. I was crushed.
Months went by, the school year ended, and I became less zealous in my four o'clock vigil, but I would still check from time to time. One day I went down to the basement where Dad kept the old black and white TV in his workroom. Back then I had the idea that different TV sets showed different shows, so I would always check both if I couldn't find what I wanted on. It was four o'clock and I turned to channel 58, just like always, but this time something was different: I heard static, but underneath it, just barely there, I heard music. Strange, bouncy calliope music. And although the channel was still scrambled, I could just barely make out a picture.
There, after all this time, was the pirate show. There was the little girl, and there were the pirate marionettes, and there was the ship with the talking figurehead. It was just like the kids at school described. Of course, the picture was a mess and I could only hear half the dialogue, but I didn't care. I was ecstatic.
I don't remember much about the program. It was half over by the time I turned it on. The only thing I really do remember was the part where the little girl and the pirate are standing outside of a cave and the ship tells them: "YOU HAVE. TO GO. INSIDE." Just like that. I guess it doesn't sound like much, but at that moment I became very scared, and I turned the TV off and almost ran out of the basement. Suddenly, I wasn't interested in the pirate show anymore.
