Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-27443491-20151221164621

 So.. Umm.. Recently, I got into reading creepypastas, and I have some.. (over-used) plots (and stories) that I actually want to post here, but I think that getting other people's opinions are better because.. Iactuallydon'tletmyfamilyreadmyworksandIhaveaveryfewfriends, so.. yeah..

 So.. Here is one (are some) of my stories.. Huhu.. I hope you’d continue reading it even if it’s pretty predictable.. TT^TT

 TIMMY: 

 I am a good boy. I really am.

 I always listen to mommy, but she will always make that ugly face if I even tell her about Timmy, but I love my mommy; even if she makes those pretty red marks across my skin, and after that, she’ll always bring me to Timmy!

 Daddy always comes home late, and he isn’t like my friends’ daddies. He smells really different from when he goes to work and when he comes home; he smells really, really bad, and I don’t like it. I think it comes from those things that daddy calls “beer”, and when he drinks it, he will always make that scary voice, but I love my daddy; even if he creates those pretty purple circles on my skin. He always listens to my stories about Timmy.

 Timmy always gets noisy every time mommy and daddy will do that, but mommy and daddy won’t hear Timmy.

 After all, they don’t believe in Timmy like I do.

 Timmy always gets lonely- I feel sorry for him. So, one time, I brought Big Ralph to the house when mommy and daddy are away, so he could come play with me and Timmy! Timmy got really selfish though, and him and Big Ralph really got along together! I was jealous because they are really noisy, and I heard crashes and thumps; they were probably playing Tag! That’s my favorite game too..

 Then, Big Ralph’s friends came over to play too! So, I let them and Timmy play for a very long time. Mommy and daddy got angry when they learned about it though. They said that the basement door needed to be re-painted again, and that cost money.

 I was really happy though! Timmy got very silent for the next week, and the week after that, and the week after that, and the week after that! He had some friends to play with all day!

 After that, I forgot to bring Timmy some friends, and he always said, “You don’t need mommy and daddy, Little Johnny.” I would always say no though.

 Timmy doesn’t need mommy and daddy; I’ll just bring him new friends then!

 Yesterday, I brought Timmy some friends, and his name is Meany Jacob. He’s really big! Bigger than Big Ralph! Timmy and him had fun though!

 Today, mommy is making that funny face again. She looks at me, and her funny face turns to that scary face. I’m really scared.

 Mommy’s mouth turns really big, and she says in a scary voice, “You damn child! You brought your ‘friends’ again, didn’t you?” I don’t know what she’s talking about. Meany Jacob isn’t my friend, he’s Timmy’s! I tell mommy about it, but she just makes that scary hissing sound, and hurts my face with her hand.

<p class="MsoNormal"> I cry for mommy to stop, but she only stops when she hears Timmy’s door open. She looks at me with her scary eyes, and loudly walks towards Timmy’s room.

<p class="MsoNormal"> I can hear Timmy saying, “Timmy needs mommy, Little Johnny, and mommy needs Timmy.” I want to cover my ears, but I need to stop mommy from being Timmy’s friend! I will bring back more friends Timmy, please don’t be friends with mommy!

<p class="MsoNormal"> I hear Timmy’s door opening, and I hold mommy’s hand really tight, but she just hurts my arm, before she walks downstairs.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Why does mommy love Timmy so much? Why does mommy want to be friends with Timmy? Why does mommy doesn’t have fun with me? Why does mommy doesn’t love me?

<p class="MsoNormal"> “Little Johnny, Mommy needs Timmy.”

<p class="MsoNormal"> I watch mommy walk deeper and deeper into Timmy’s room.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Mommy never gave me a birthday cake. Mommy never told me bedtime stories. Mommy never wanted to play tag with me. Mommy never gave me hugs. Mommy never gave me kisses. Mommy doesn’t..

<p class="MsoNormal"> Mommy doesn’t love me, but mommy always loves Timmy.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Maybe.. Maybe I don’t need mommy anymore.

<p class="MsoNormal"> I slowly walk towards Timmy’s door, and I can hear Timmy’s laugh slowly fill his room, but mommy doesn’t hear it.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Now, she will.

<p class="MsoNormal"> I close the door, and I know that mommy will be angry with me, but she won’t be able to create those pretty, painful marks on my skin anymore, because..

<p class="MsoNormal"> Mommy needs Timmy, and Timmy needs Mommy.

<p class="MsoNormal"> I can hear them have fun, but I’m not jealous anymore, because Timmy needs everything.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Timmy needs friends. Timmy needs mommies, and Timmy needs..

<p class="MsoNormal"> I hear the front door open, then I see daddy. Daddy looks at me, then at Timmy’s door, and he looks at me again. I know that he hears mommy, but not Timmy. Daddy makes that scary voice again, and I cry again as daddy makes those pretty, painful, blue circles on my skin.

<p class="MsoNormal"> “Little Johnny, mommy needs daddy, and mommy’s with Timmy. I know that daddy also needs mommy.”

<p class="MsoNormal"> I open my eyes, and I can only see daddy’s big and scary hands.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Maybe I don’t need daddy anymore.

<p class="MsoNormal">' BONUS: SHE LOVES ME. SHE LOVES ME NOT '

<p class="MsoNormal"> “She loves me. She loves me not,” I mumbled to myself as I slowly plucked the petals off from the flower that I was holding. “She loves me. She loves me not.” I stopped, just as I plucked the last petal. I looked at her and smiled. She always look so beautiful, even when she was tied up to a chair, but.. I only sighed, and grabbed the thing from the table beside me before I got up, and walked towards her. She struggled against the ropes, but it’s useless. I stabbed her right in the stomach, and I could see her cry. She really does look beautiful with red, doesn’t she? With her final breath, I pulled the knife out. I stared at her limp body. I sighed before I told myself, “She never really did love me.” Again, I took a flower from the nearest vase, and did my routine as I walked out the basement. “She loves me. She loves me not..” <ac_metadata title="Err.. I need help for my.. Story(ies).. Reviews are very much appreciated! *gives virtual cookies*"> </ac_metadata>