The Odd Family's Book of Bedtime Stories

Dad's at the Door

A father went away on a business trip. It was just he and his son at home but his son was old enough to stay alone. In fact, it would be his first time staying at home by himself. Unfortunately, his father had grabbed the wrong charger on his way out the door and now both of their phones were dead. Despite this, the boy was all the more determined to prove that he was responsible enough to stay on his own for a few days. Each day, he made his own meals and cleaned up after himself. He even took care to make sure the house was clean so he could surprise his dad when he returned.

One night, he dreamed that he was standing beside a river where his dad regularly took him fishing. It had rained so the water was up and rushing, too dangerous to cross. On the other side was his dad. He had his hands cupped over his mouth and was yelling something the boy couldn't quite understand over the sound of roaring water. It sounded like his father was telling him not to open the door but there were no doors in the woods. Then he woke up with a start.

Downstairs, someone was knocking on the door. Because of the strange dream, he rolled over to look outside from his bedroom window. His father's car was in the driveway. He was home two days early, but the son rushed downstairs to greet him. He had only just reached the door when he remembered the strange dream. Of course his dad had keys to the house. Even if he hadn't, he knew where the spare was hidden. He also wasn't just knocking, he was loudly banging on the door.

"Hello?" the young boy called out. "Who's there?" He was certain his dad would have answered him, but the knocking only continued. It didn't even pause. "Hello?" he tried again. He leaned into the door and looked out the peephole. It was definitely his dad standing at the door. He could clearly see his face through the small peephole.

Still, something didn't feel quite right. The knocking only got louder. The boy stepped away from the door cautiously. His dad still never spoke, never called out or said anything to let him know he was there. He banged harder and harder on the door until it shook on its hinges. His dad had always told him to trust his instincts. Trusting them now, he ran further into the house, finding a good place to hide.

There he waited, listening to the banging. He couldn't remember if a neighbor was coming to check on him that day or the next but he decided to wait in his hiding spot until then. Eventually, he fell asleep curled up and scared. When he woke, the house was silent. The banging had stopped and it seemed like hours had passed. Not knowing whether it was safe or not, the boy stayed hidden for some time. He listened closely to every sound the house made. He could hear the click and whir of the air conditioner clicking on and the steady tick of a clock but that was it. There was no banging, and no one else seemed to be in the house.

When he did decide to come out, he walked through the house cautiously and checked every window- and every door. None of them had been broken into so he knew he was still alone- inside, at least. He knew not to open the door. Cautious, he crept to the door and looked through the peephole. His dad was gone. A quick check out a window revealed that his dad's car was gone as well.

Then he saw another car coming up the driveway. It was his neighbor's car but the boy waited until he  actually saw his neighbor getting out. As soon as he was certain it was safe, he swung open the front door and intended to run down the driveway. As soon as he opened the door, he had to stop. His dad's head lay there on the front porch, stuck onto what looked like a broom handle. His empty eyes stared out into nothing. Written on the door in his father's blood were the words 'good boy'.