I suppose I will have to begin at the beginning. I'm 13 years old currently but this story took place when I was 12.
You see when I was 8 years old my father died of cancer. My family went through rough times but we survived.
One day when I was 12 years old my mother and I were downstairs folding clothes, we were all alone in the house except for my baby brother Michael who was upstairs sleeping at the time. We folded the clothes in silence listening to the baby monitor in case my brother began to cry. We were just about done folding the clothes when we heard my little brother whine a bit, I was just about to go upstairs and check on him when we heard a voice, the voice said, "It's ok Michael...go back to sleep Michael everything will be all right." My mom and me looked at the monitor then my mom told me to run up and check on Michael while she called Tim (Michael's father) to see if it was him.
I ran upstairs and opened my little brothers door slowly, I peeked in and saw Michael fast asleep holding onto his teddy-bear. I closed the door with a feeling as if somebody was watching me. I ran downstairs frightened and my mom met me halfway saying, "It wasn't Tim Steph...It wasn't Tim." I looked at her and said, "Theres nobody upstairs mom..." My mom smiled a bit and said, "I knew this day would come." I asked her what she meant but she simply said, "Your dad just came to welcome the baby I guess..." I looked at her as if she was crazy but figured it was a better explanation than a robber disappearing.
So it's up to you to decide if it was my dad or a robber thank you for reading this.
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