22 Jul Jonny, Such a Good Boy Jonny
“Jonny, Such a Good Boy Jonny”
Written by Max Voynich Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/ACopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
⏰ ESTIMATED READING TIME — 7 minutes
my dad taught me how to use the internet because sometimes he said he felt too lazy to scroll and he just wanted to sit and smoke cigarettes and drink beer and i would read out the answers in the threads he liked the sound of
if i stumbled on a word he’d box my ear real hard and it would get all swollen and red and i’d have to keep reading even though my vision would swim like the road does on a hot day
sometimes when he would leave the room to go and do a piss i would drink a gulp or two of beer from his can and it would taste warm and horrid like sawdust but i would do it anyway because it would make me feel older and then i would spend the rest of the day acting like a grown up
i would say things like have you done your taxes yet no neither have i or ask people where they have palalelt parked and then say things like fuck you get out my house my sons asleep have you people no diggumty
i tried a cigarette once but i only breathed in once and my dad came in and caught me and he said what the HELL do you think youre doing jonny dont you know those things can kill you
and then he made me sleep on the floor for a few days until he forgot why i was sleeping on the floor in the first place
but this is all beesides the point i am here because i need help with something
my dad is not scared off very much in fact i think he is the bravest man i have ever seen
or at least he is probably the strongest
but sometimes when he talks about my uncle
and he always calls him my uncle even though i know that he is also his brother
sometimes when he talks about my uncle he goes all pale and his eyes go wide and he shakes like i do if i’m really tired or if i am carrying something that is to hevvy for me
and recently maybe a week ago maybe more i do not know i am not very good with calendars
he said your uncle is coming over and then he got really panicky like a trapped rat and he said he had no choise and then he said he was sorry and sorry is not a word i have heard him say very much
and he started drinking more and not just beer but vottga and whisky and he would drink until he was sick like i was when he kicked me and then he would fall asleep but not completely asleep but halfasleep and he would say things in a funny voice
things like please dont dont do that and go away and sometimes he would grab me by the arm so hard it hurt and say things like if he comes you must not let him in do you understand you must not let him in
and so i didnt but i did not know when he would come or what he would look like
and my dad was always passed out on the sofa and he stank of sweat and vottka and so i would leave him because he does not like to be woken up
sometimes i would think i could hear something outside the house
something like someone running their hands along the walls and tapping the tips of their fingers against the windows and it would scare me so much i could not sleep
and the gravel on one side of the house would crunch like it does when someones walking on it
a few days went by like this and i mainly slept in the day in the corner of the room my dad was in even tho i knew that was probably a bad idea
and then i got too scared of even going upstairs because the house is old and makes these strange sounds at night which my dad says are just pipes SHUT UP just pipes
but i think sometimes that there are maybe imvisonable people walking up the halls because i can hear their footsteps
doors open and close to rooms i am not ment to go into that smell like herbs and incense and that are lit by candles like when the power goes out
and it was like that in the corner of the room with my dad in that i saw it for the first time
saw him for the first time
there somewhere in the garden between the branches was a man stood with his hands behind his back and a big yellow smile like he had eaten a whole can of yellow paint
his skin all grey and wet like he had been in the shower too long
and he just stood like that and watched me and i watched him
and my dad snored like a car engine
and this yellow smile ran his tongue over his teeth and then he was gone and there was a knocking at the door
a knock knock knock
a very impatient knock like they were desperate to get in like they were in a real rush or something
and i noticed then that my dad was not asleep but awake and his eyes were wide open and his blue shirt was stained at the pits and on the belly dark with sweat and his face looked half like he was crying half like he wanted to scream
and he was shaking and his mouth kept openin and closing like a fish
open close open close
but no noise was coming out like a fish makes no noise when it is on the pier it just flops and cant breathe
and then there was a voice from the door and it said
it said you owe me this george you owe me this just this little one
george is the name of my dad incase you are confused
and it was a scratchy voice like it wasnt used very often and i thought maybe their throat was like dry hay
and the knocking got faster
and my dad is saying no do not go to that door please just stay here stay with me
and the voice is saying george you remember dont you
you have to remember george i want what i am owed
and then there is silence
and then i can see it a face pressed against the window looking in looking straight at me like it appeared out of nowhere
its teeth are the colour of earwax or melted butter
and i jump out my skin and i am not embrassed but i think i peed a little bit when i saw it
and it goes and we sit in silence and my dad drinks a whole bottle of vottka and cries and says he is sorry
in the morning a nice lady comes over who brings us food sometimes and we hide all the bottles and cans because SOME THINGS SHOULD STAY PRIVATE son you will lern that when you are older
and i try and tell her about uncle but my dad grabs me and says jonny has been having nightmares
which i most certanlly have not becaus i havent actually been sleeping very much
and she looks at me all sad like you would look at a hurt pet and she says he doesnt know
and i say i dont know what
and she says the crash george the crash he is probably old enough to know he should know
and my dad says julie you need to shut the HELL up and she does and that is the end of that
and then she goes and we are alone again and my dad keeps talking to himself and says things like i knew this would happen i knew it i knew it and he smokes lots of cigarettes and puts them out on the walls which leaves lots of little black marks like ladybird spots
and sometimes he says things to me like you know sometimes i hated you for it hated you for being the one
or things like i had no choice it had to be you he was not a good man was never a good man
before i kno it night has come again and he is there at the window
uncle
but this time he is crying big sobs like he has stubbed his toe and his eyes are purple and bloodshot
he is weeping and somehow still smiling that big yellow smile and he is saying
jonny you must let me in your father is very sick he is very sick indeed he needs help
and my dad is doing that fish thing with his mouth
open close open close
and i am so scared my knees are knocking together
and uncle is pressing his face against the window now and opening his mouth and his tongue is the same colour as the bags under his eyes and he is saying let me in
let me in you little fucking brat let me in or ill slit you like a pig all up your chest and stomach
and then there is that knocking at the door again knock knock knock desperate and urgent like someone is dying to get in
and uncle’s voice is all small and girly now and he is saying please oh please jonny you must let me in your father is so sick and i have medicine
all high pitched and squeaky
jonny such a brave boy jonny let me in now or there will be HELL TO PAY let me in you fucking crettin or i will rip you open like your skin is wet tissue paper
and i dont move just hold my knees and bite my lip and hope to god that he goes away
and he does
but he says he will be back tomorrow and he will take what he is owed mark his words
and so that dear friends is why i am riting to you because i have nowhere else to turn and my dad is passed out and to drunk to stand let alone to help and i do not know if i can manage another night of this i am so scared i feel like my heart will burst
splat
i do not know what deal was made but i am going to try and find out
i have got a pan and a knife from a kitchen like a sword and a shield in case worse comes to the worse
but i am so scared really i know boys are not meant to say things like that but i am and i do not know what to do
because he will come back i know he will
and this is an old house and there are gaps and cracks everywhere and it is only so long before he finds a way to get in and then i do not know what will happen i do not know at all
all i know is that it is so bad that when i asked my dad what he meant he cried and held my head and i had not seen him cry that hard since mum died
i do not know where else to turn
and last night before uncle left
when he peered in thru the window and looked straight in my eyes
he winked
he winked like he knew something i didnt
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
Written by Max Voynich Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/A🔔 More stories from author: Max Voynich
Publisher's Notes: N/A Author's Notes: N/AMore Stories from Author Max Voynich:
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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).