Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-30288666-20161209014438

When I was five years old, I had a grandfather who I remember because of his habit to knock on my families living room table whenever he came over and, despite knowing my name, he always called me Sonny. I thought it was odd, but that's why I liked him so much. One day, on my sixth birthday, my grandfather got into a serious accident on the drive to my house. We went to go visit him a few days later at the hospitol, but when we got there we found out that he had passed away from his injuries. Being only six, this was quite truamatizing for me. Fortunally it wasn't a permament truamatizement, and I was able to move on about two years later. Fast forward five years, I was thirteen years old at the time and my grandfather's death was just a distant memory. My parents had been fighting lately and were now sleeping in different bedrooms. One night, while I was catching up on my studies, I heard a faint tapping sound. It didn't come from my room, nor did it come from either my parents' rooms. The tapping lasted for a few minutes before silence filled the house. The next day I asked my parents if they had heard the tapping sound last night. Both of them had heard them and neither of them knew what it was. That night the tapping came again, just as faint as last night. This time me and my parents decided to search through the house to find the source of the tapping. My parents found nothing while I discovered that the tapping was the loudest in the living room. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere in here and it was actually quite loud and steady. I stood in the doorway, listening to the tapping sound. I turned on the lights and the knocking ceased, only to resume when I turned them back off. I was clearly confused, so I flicked the lights on and off repeatily for about a few seconds when I heard a hushed voice.

"Sonny, could you stop that please?" 