Childish

Hello there, fellow reader. I am the author and this is my second fanfiction (I think). Thank you for deciding to read my story! Although, I would like to ask a little favor from you. I haven't proofread this story, so if you see any mispelled words or any grammatical errors please let me know in the comments. And please do be polite. That's all, thank you!!!

Enjoy...
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Even though I am sixteen years of age, I still secretly love toys. I don't know why I haven't grown out of it. Honestly speaking, I can't even sleep without my teddy bear - but I have another reason for that. My friends are aware of this and they think that I'm weird but they accept me anyway. They say it's what makes me... me.

But another weird fact about me is that I am interested in creepy things. So, one day I encountered a story about a toymaker. He made the best toys. But if you ever anger him, he can turn those toys into deadly weapons. He killed a whole family with his creations, just because he was forgotten by his friend and their family refused them to be taken by the toymaker.

Of course I felt frightened by this but felt excitement and pity at the same time. Of course scary stories like this one are supposed to give you thrill, that's the point in sharing these fictional or non-fictional events. But it got me thinking, what if the toymaker only wanted a friend to accompany him. To appreciate the creations he made by himself.

I guess I felt a bit empathetic towards him because one: my friends live far away from me and two: I'm a crafty type of person. No one's really there to appreciate my creation because they're all busy or are too far away from me. But being the understanding person I am, I pay no mind to their lack of presence in my daily life.

I put down my phone and stared at the ceiling. I hugged my pink teddy bear tightly against my chest. The silence echoed around the house as I lie down on my bed. My mom and my brother were at work and the school gave us a day off to prepare for tomorrow's camping.

I personally didn't want to go, being the introvert that I am. Just imagining being surrounded by trees and whatever creatures that could be lurking in the dark. And worst of all, people I'm not comfortable with. It all makes me uncomfortable. I bit my lip in worry, peeling the first layer of skin. I grimaced as I felt a stinging sensation and the taste of iron met my tastebuds.

I sighed and closed my eyes. I reached for my phone beside me. Opening my eyes, I typed in my password and decided to read some quotes.

"I'll always be here, by your side, even when you don't see me... and I will build for you the world that you deserve."

I stumbled upon a quote that they say was said by the same toymaker in that horror story. Before I start fantasizing about this unknown man, I decided to get started on packing.

Whilst my packing, I suddenly heard a soft familiar tune. It sounded like it was comimg from the living room. I opened my door and called out, thinking that my brother might have arrived from work. But no one answered. I slowly headed down the stairs.

"Hello? Mom? Mark? You guys home?!" I yelled.

I walked into the living room, the tune becoming louder. I headed towards the fire place and was surprised that my mom's music box was suddenly playing. I distinctly remember it being broken due to that one time my brother and I were playing around and accidentally hit it.

"Maybe Mark fixed it." I mumbled to myself.

The music came to an abrupt stop. I was a little freaked out the fact that it just suddenly started playing, but I just brushed it off and went back to my room. Once I entered my room, I was suddenly attacked by a weird feeling. Looking around my room, I noticed my closet was left ajar.