The Misunderstood boy

November 2, 2011
By Anonymous

The soccer mom minivan pulled up to the house at approximately one o’clock in the morning and four young boys cranky with exhaustion poured out. The piercing cry of the littlest one was heard around the neighborhood; he didn’t want to leave the comfort of his blue car seat that he so quietly slumbered in on the way home. His two older brothers plus a friend strolled through the garage into the safety of their residence, but the little one couldn’t resist the temptation to carve his name into the glistening white snow that enveloped the yard. He leaned over and sloppily wrote the letters “Paul”, pulling his freezing fingers away as quickly as possible. The parents of the child yelled for him to come in and he stomped mightily up the driveway. They knew that their youngest one should never be awake this late, but New Years was an exception.

Paul furiously ripped off his many layers that his mom made sure he wore, but took off his dark boots calmly knowing that the inside covering would come off still attached to his foot if taken off rapidly. Then, he walked up the stairs into the quarters of his room, but heard faint laughing coming from his oldest brother’s room. Paul was always a very nosey kid, so he decided to check it out. He barged into his room to find his brother’s friend and his brother playing video games. The colorful graphics immediately caught the attention of the four year old and he invited himself into the room. His brother’s face, red and irritated, commanded Paul to get out of his room, but Paul would not oblige. After three minutes of loud roaring from his brother, the mom busted in and dragged Paul out. He begged and pleaded and even put on his cute face that guaranteed to work on his mom, but tonight was different. She told him that she would be up to put him to bed in five minutes, and if he didn’t cooperate, there would be spankings. He ran around his room angrily, throwing a temper tantrum which his parents were used to. In fact, he was so annoyed that he decided to take action.

In his room, there was a little yellow dresser in the corner. The way the dresser was aligned, there was just enough space between it and the wall for a small child to fit. Paul thought it would be nice payback to hide for a little to show his discontent with his family. He maneuvered his small body between the dresser and the wall. Then he waited. He waited long enough for his mom to open the door to his room, ready to put him to bed. She looked around, rolled her eyes, and yelled to my oldest brother to make Paul come to his room. He poked his head out only to tell her that they haven’t seen him since he was dragged from the room about ten minutes ago. Perplexed, she went downstairs and yelled for him to come to bed, but there was no answer. The panic stricken mother began to question every person in the house, but the answer was all the same. She retrieved her husband from their room, and from the quivering mouth and wide eyes, he knew that something was not right. They both ran into Paul’s room once again and searched everywhere; all the while, Paul held his breath and didn’t make even the slightest sound. They left the room, and Paul was happy knowing that his parents were frightened about this situation. If they weren’t going to let him play video games with his older brother, then should have to suffer as well. Paul’s thoughts were running wildly as he stuck in his position between the wall and the dresser.

The parents sprinted down the stairs and out the house, hoping that Paul only wondered outside to play in the snow. They went across the street to their neighbor’s house and rang the doorbell. They remember a car’s lights shining across their bedroom window a little while ago, and the only thing they could think of is their little boy was kidnapped in this car. They interrogated the neighbors, but no answer. With fear in their eyes, they went back across to their home and saw something faintly written in the snow. The way it looked, the letters look like it spelled out “Pay”. Their hearts dropped fearing the worst. Someone had taken their youngest child, and would make them pay a ransom for his return. They had no choice but to call the police, and within minutes, the flashing red and blue lights were speeding down their road towards them in this nice, suburban neighborhood. The full out search began. The police had to interrogate everyone on the street at one thirty in the morning, much to the displeasure of the community. At this point, even Paul’s brothers and friend were moved to tears thinking they would never see him again. After a search that lasted almost thirty minutes, the whole family and the police were in the kitchen discussing everything that had happened. Meanwhile, Paul continued to have an amused look on his face while hiding quietly between the dresser and the wall. Being the four year old kid that he was, he grew restless extremely fast, and decided that this fiasco had gone on long enough. He crept out from hiding, and jubilantly jumped onto his bed and pretended it was his personal trampoline. Suddenly, he heard the depressed and choked up voices in kitchen stop as quickly as they had started. The stairs leading upstairs soon began to squeak violently as seven pairs of feet trampled their way to his room. The door was ripped open, and one can only describe the faces of the people standing in the doorway. It was relief mixed with anger, tears where soaked up on the sleeves of their shirts and sniffles were harmonizing. Paul sat on his bed as hugs and kisses were given not knowing why this was a big deal. In his mind, he didn’t do anything wrong, but he could tell that the consequences would be great.

Twenty minutes of tears and kisses later, everyone went to bed. Paul lay in his bed thinking to himself what a perfect scheme he had just pulled off. He knew how terrible he made his family feel, but to him, they deserved it. His mom and dad lay in their beds thinking about the same thing. If you don’t give a four year old what they want, it could turn bad. Luckily, an incident like this never happened to the family again.

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