Your name is Rachel, age 11, and only 4 feet 9 inches. Your mom was at work while you were staying at home with your dad, who was watching you play in the backyard. You were messing around in the sandbox when you found a mysterious toy gun, covered in sand.
"How did that get there?" you wonder. Picking it up, you jokingly point it around, and pretend to shoot things.
"Rachel! It's time for bed!" you hear your dad yell from the back door. You take the toy gun with you and hide it inside your pocket, so your dad won't see it. "C'mon, let's get some sleep". You follow your dad upstairs, and into your room.
"Dad, can you hand me my phone over there?" you ask, pointing to the table that holds your laptop, with your phone right next to it.
"No sweetie, it's already late. You need to get some sleep," your dad responds in a quiet tone, which you could never get used to since your dad had a fairly deep voice.
"Please!"
"No. You need sleep."
"But tomorrow's Sunday! I don't have school!"
"You still need sleep! It'll help you grow taller, like me!" you cross your arms and turn away from your dad when he says this. He frowns, and starts to walk away. But, before he could walk away, you pull the toy gun out of your pocket, and pretend to shoot it at your dad. But when you pull the trigger, a beam of light comes out of the gun and turns your dad into a flat "costume" of skin. You begin to freak out and fall out of your bed. You walk up to the skin, feeling some tears coming. But you get an idea, do you wish to...
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.12 seconds at 2:31pm on Nov 25, 2024 via server WEBX1.