The Stranger Who Knew My Childhood
Daniel was sitting alone in a small coffee shop when a stranger walked over and said his childhood nickname.
Daniel immediately looked up.
Nobody had called him that in nearly twenty years.
The stranger sat across from him without asking and began describing Daniel's old house.
He knew about the blue bedroom.
He knew about the broken swing in the backyard.
He even knew about the small wooden box Daniel had buried beneath the floorboards when he was eight.
Daniel's hands started shaking.
“Who are you?”
The stranger smiled.
“Your parents never told you about me?”
Daniel stared at him.
“My parents didn't know you.”
The stranger slowly leaned forward.
“They did.”
Then he whispered something that made Daniel's blood run cold.
“They told you I was imaginary because they were afraid you'd remember what happened to me.”
0 Comments