Creepypasta Stories

The Perfectly Behaved Boy - A Dark Christmas Tale

There was once a very well behaved eight year old boy named Miles. He did all the things that good children are supposed to do, nearly all the time. He ate all his vegetables, unless they were carrots. He completed all of his school assignments, except for that one time he forgot to finish his homework. He was always nice to his friends, unless you count that one time when he yelled at his schoolmate, Tony. And he never spoke back to his parents or got mad at them, with very rare exceptions. Yes, he was nearly perfect, and he was a joy for his parents to raise, almost all the time.

That boy existed more than thirty years ago, and in a manner of speaking, he still exists. That boy? He's me, and he will always be part of who I am. I can remember every transgression I made as a child, not only because there were so few of them, but because they ended up shaping my life in a way you could never imagine.

Of all my misdeeds, the one that stands out most vividly is the very last time I yelled at my parents. The funny thing is, even though I can remember being mad, and I can remember every word I said, I don't recall exactly why I was upset. When I try to think of the reason, it's like looking at a blank sheet of paper in my mind. I can tell you that it wasn't anything that my adult self would find consequential, but I know it felt important at the time. It was two days before Christmas, and the words I spoke felt foreign as they came out of my mouth, probably because I'd never said anything quite like it before.

"Go away! I don't want you to be here anymore! I don't want you to talk to me ever again!"

I could see the hurt in my parents' eyes as I unleashed my tirade towards them. Even now, I'm surprised at what a profound effect the words from my eight year old self had on them. Their dismay was mixed with obvious shock upon hearing me lash out. My mother had a look on her face that was confused, sad, and angry all at the same time. Father was harder to read, but I knew he wasn't happy. Sadly, the looks on their faces are among the last memories I have of my parents. Their distraught scowls are burned in my mind; two visages that are now a permanent part of my psyche.

By the time that Christmas Eve came around, all had been forgiven. Whatever the issue had been, it was resolved. My mother cooked a special ham dinner, and we had a roaring fire going. The house was warm and extra comfortable, and in the hours after dinner, I sat and sipped from a mug of hot cocoa with peppermint. I no longer believed in Santa Claus, but that didn't stop me from feeling a natural yuletide excitement. I fell asleep that night staring at the dazzling lights and shiny ornaments that clung to our Christmas tree. I vaguely remember my father carrying me to my bedroom and giving me a little kiss on my forehead.

I awoke later that night to the feeling of someone poking their finger into my back.

"Wake up, kid."

It was a voice I'd never heard before, a man's voice, with a slight drawl. My eyes opened widely as I instinctively rolled out of bed in an outright panic. I fell to the floor and screamed for my father.

I was trapped in a corner of my bedroom. I could see the man's silhouetted figure looming clearly in front of me. A small red glow came from a cigarette in his hand. I froze in fear of this stranger who had invaded my home.

The man spoke to me again, "Quiet down, he can't hear you right now anyhow."

He put his cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply. As he did, his face was illuminated by the red glow, and I could see his deep-set eyes, his dirty fingers, and his long black hair.

"But kid, I can hear you. I can hear you better than anybody, in ways you can't even understand." He pointed at the side of his forehead as he spoke.

I didn't reply, but even through my fear, I couldn't help but wonder who the man was.

He nodded, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. "So, you'd like to know who I am. Well, I'm the guy who's tuned into your mind. I'm the guy that's been around for a long time. And most importantly, I'm the guy who gives kids what they ask for."