Poor Son.

The Computer Man

As I was tucking my 9 year-old son into bed, I told him I had a story to read. "Aww, but Dad, you suck at telling stories! Can't mum tell me one?" He asked, begging. "No, today I've got a good one just for you." I said, smirking. I pulled his computer chair to his bed and sat, telling the story. "Once, there was a boy named David. He hated his parents, especially his dad when he told him stories." "Oh brother.." He said, smashing his head into his pillow. "Let me go on. David had only one friend; JohnWat132. They were best friends, and JohnWat132 knew everything about him, except for where he lives. They're virtual friends, so David thinks this man is a 9 year-old kid like him. What he didn't know was that he was actually a 40 year-old man, who was recently framed for killing a family." "Boring." My son was muttering to himself by now, playing with a stuffed animal. "Finally, JohnWat132 took the move and asked for his address. "I want to meet you in real life, we can play with transformers." The message said. David gave him the address, thinking of what could possibly happen." My son started getting up more, intrigued by the story. "Later that night, David woke up to a noise of struggling and slamming. He heard something creak up the stairs, frightening him. "Mum? Dad?" He asked, staring at his doorway. Suddenly, his father's head popped out from the side of the door. "Yes, David?" His father said, his voice sounding a little different. "Where's mum?" He asked, pulling his covers up more. "Right here, honey." Her head popped up too, along with her voice sounding different. "Mum, Dad, I have something to tell you, and I want to fix it." He said, sitting up. "You mean how you gave JohnWat132 your address? You shouldn't have done that!" His father said. All of a sudden, a 40 year-old man walked out from behind the door, with two heads on his arms. "JohnWat132 can't wait to play with you!" He said, imitating the mom. He threw the heads back, with them smashing against the wall. "Let's have some fun." He charged at the boy, plunging a knife in his chest repeatedly. He watched David fall to the ground, coughing up blood. "Goodnight." He muttered, kicking his chest. He walked away, when suddenly a baby started to cry. He continued to follow the baby sounds, and found a nursery, with a crib." My son was on edge, staring at me. "He picked up the baby, ready to stab it when suddenly, the baby grabbed his finger. "What a cutie.." He muttered, dropping his knife and cuddling the baby. Afterwards, he took the baby home and cared for it as if it were his. He grew up to the name William, and lived without knowing about his parents." My son was confused at the end. "B-But dad, m-my name is William." He said, studdering. "Heh heh heh, well, you don't always know what happens." I said, slowly walking out the room. Nailed it.