When I was a child, I well remember doing something should not have done. Across my house lived a family of three. The two parents were friendly, but their child was the most annoying of all children. One day, he broke my toy. I felt my fists clenching up, face turning red, trying ever so hard to contain my rage. Obviously, I could not. I slapped him on the back, and he instantly burst into tears.
Just at that moment, my mother walked by. She dragged me away with her vicious grasp and roared at me to go to my room and get into bed. I begged her to let me off just this once, but apparently, she refused. I reluctantly dragged myself to the bedroom. The room was eerily quiet. It smelt like it did this morning - smelly. It was going to be boring. I tucked myself into bed.
I woke up in the dark and felt something lurking in the shadows. It crept towards me with quiet steps and patted me on the back. My heart pounded, perspiration trickling down my cheeks.
I woke up with the sun glaring into my eyes. I was still slightly shaken from last night. To this day, I still do not know who that was.
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