"Dinner is ready!" My mother abruptly yelled for me and my father.
My name is James. My father’s name is Johnny. My mother’s name is Marry. I had a very terrifying experience long ago, especially considering my age, that I feel the need to share.
We were playing. So, my father paused the game and I barged downstairs, as I was starving. Excitement dissented in me. I still felt like we were prowling through the forests for animal meat.
I sat down on my chair, and my father sat down on his. He nudged me to catch my attention and asked, “Were you having fun?” I replied, “Yeah!” Meat and rice sat on my plate. I began slicing the meat with a knife. The knife wasn’t very efficient. So I was straining my arms.
I sliced my meat into 16 pieces. One by one, I would load 1 piece of meat and 1 spoon of rice into my mouth. When my father and I finished, I asked him, “Can we continue playing?” He replied, “I have to work tomorrow, son. I have to sleep early. I’m so sorry.”
Anger dissented in me. My body prickled in anger, as I repressed my complaints. I barged upstairs and into my room in anger. My father returns to his room after a while of not being there. As my father left, I decided to save and quit our game and turn off my console.
I lifted up my laptop to resume. I swiped my finger on the computer to log in. I browsed through websites. After a while, my computer overheated without my awareness. The black screen reflected my image. However, at the bottom right corner of the screen was a window, and out the window appeared a man wielding a knife, piercing his finger skin with it. It began to bleed. Fear dissented in me and I turned around hastily.
He was no longer there.
I screamed hysterically in horror. My mother and father barged into my room in horror as my body prickled in horror. My mother asked, “What happened?” I replied, “My computer overheated and at the bottom corner of the screen, I saw a man behind our window holding a knife!”
My father returned to his room, grabbed an Assault Rifle (Don’t remember what it was), and barged out, downstairs, and out the house. So did my mother. I exited the house afterwards without them noticing. After a while, I heard a scream. I plunged into the house and slammed the door shut.
After about less than 3 minutes, they returned. My father scolded me in his room. He retorted, “Don’t make up things like that, alright!? You got me really worried there for a while!” I replied, “No! I really saw someone!” He replied, “Then we should have seen him or her!” I nodded.
That’s my experience. I’m just watching TV. According to the latest news broadcast, about 8 victims were stabbed during a party and were eaten by a homeless psychotic man who prowls through the city for flesh. They call him, and we eventually agreed to call him, the Maneater. Every 5 minutes, I hastily turn around to see if he’s peeking through my window. I have a bat set down beside me, ready to savagely lash him. He could be in front of your window right now. Watch out, my friends…
This pasta was a bit, bland. And there's a lot of unnecessary description. For example, the bit where James was straining his arms while cutting the meat. It seems abrupt as that is completely random. Don't get me wrong, the small things do matter. But a story needs to be consistent. And the ending sort of ruined it. How do you know it was the man you saw? All you've said is that there were a bunch of people killed. Wouldn't you go to the police if you're sure that you've seen something suspicious? Maybe not, for fear that they won't believe you. But why would the reader believe you, either? All in all, James simply seems like a very paranoid person.