timmy's father

Creepypasta #541: Imaginary Friends

When I was five-years-old I had an imaginary friend. My father and I lived in a small house in the woods of West Virginia and didn’t have any neighbors with kids. There were only two other houses near ours and they were inhabited by elderly couples. My father wasn’t a very nice man and I never knew my mother.

I used to play in the backyard with sticks and a toy fire truck. My father didn’t have a lot of money so he never bought me new toys. He spent all of his money on alcohol. I can still smell his breath sometimes when I think about him.

I was playing with my fire truck the day I met Tim. I pushed the truck down the little dirt path behind our house and stopped a few feet short of the shack that sat out back. I was always scared of that shack but on that day I decided to go inside.

I entered the shack and it smelled of urine and rotten meat. The floor was littered with empty cans of soup and bottles of alcohol. There was a couch in the center of the room that had red stains on it. A belt hung on the wall across from me and a broken mirror to the right.

I walked through the room and looked into the bathroom on my right. The toilet was badly cracked and the wall that used to hold a sink was bare. My throat tightened and I was about leave when I heard him speak for the first time.

“Are you here to play with me?”

I turned to the only other room in the shack and looked for the source of the voice. I stepped into the small room and saw the boy sitting on the ground next to a broken window. His hair was black and matted to his forehead. He was naked other than a pair of white underwear that was grossly stained. I could see bruises on his arms and scars on his back.

“Hi,” I said.

“Wanna play?” the boy said.

“Sure?”

I sat down in front of him and pushed the truck to him. His odor was strong. He was sitting in his own feces and piss.

“I’m Tim,” he said.

“I’m Alex.”

I went and saw Tim every day that I could. We played with my truck and he seemed happy. I never asked him why he was there, I was just glad that he was. I didn’t have any friends so I was glad to have someone even if he smelled bad and scared me a little.

Tim changed every few months during that year. A few times he insisted his name wasn’t Tim. For a while he had blonde hair like me and his bruises disappeared. After a few weeks the bruises came back though. He changed back to having black hair eventually and I was happy about that. When he had blonde hair he wasn’t as fun.

Your imaginary friends never are the same are they? They are just your imagination on any particular day. I couldn’t create the same person forever. Eventually Tim told me his name was Blake. I didn’t like Blake so I was glad when he was gone.

After Blake left the shack was empty. I checked a few times each week for a month or two before finally giving up. My friend was gone. I was alone again.

My grandparents came and picked me up from home one day after that. I never saw my father again. My grandparents told me he had told them to take care of me. My grandparents raised me as their own son and my life improved greatly. They had many neighbors with kids for me to play with and I made many friends throughout the years.

I never forgot Tim though.

It’s been thirty years since my grandparents took me in. My son, Alan, has an imaginary friend now too. He calls him Tommy. Timmy and Tommy. Like father, like son.

“Dad, Pap and Meemaw are here!” I heard my son scream from the downstairs living room. He’s four-years-old today.

I’ve always been curious of where my father had gone and I’m not sure why it took so long for me to look him up but it did. I searched his name and a few newspaper articles popped up from local papers. My eyes burned in the light from the computer monitor as I stared with intense purpose. I don’t remember much about my childhood just bits and pieces here and there. And Tim, I remember Tim.

The articles were about a man charged with the kidnapping of four boys and the murder of three. The photo below the headline was of my father. There was a second photo to his left of the shack behind our old house. Halfway through the article were three photographs of the missing boys and I recognized them immediately. They were all of Tim. Well, I guess, they were of Tim, Blake and Roger (the other name he had tried giving me). I got dizzy and felt like I was going to throw up. I read further and tears rolled from my cheeks.

The fourth boy was never found, the article said. His parent’s called off the search after three years. He was taken on his fourth birthday. Below the article was the fourth child’s picture. Blonde hair like Blake’s, like mine.

The photo was of me.

The date on the article was from three days ago. The man had escaped from the local penitentiary after being locked away for twenty-seven years of his life sentence.

I heard the door downstairs slam. I ran to the window and watched as a black car with tinted windows and no license plate sped from my driveway. I bolted downstairs almost tripping over my feet.

“Alan!”

I reached the bottom of the stairs and fell to my knees. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and tried to remember the numbers to 9-1-1. I crumpled over in defeat and tried to catch my breath.

The last thing I remember before the cops arrived was the faint smell of alcohol.

Credits to: Suspense304 

(I just got like five asks asking about the tractor joke so here we go. Keep in mind it’s better when told aloud and obvs it is not mine but the beauty of it is that you can MAKE it yours)


so there’s this little kiwi kid named Timmy. He’s an average kid. Average suburban home, average kiwi family, cool dog in the backyard. Nothing spectular. He’s maybe ten years old? Scruffy blonde hair, gross clothes as per usual for a boy his age. Boring. Timmy loves tractors.


Timmy fucking loves tractors. 

Keep reading

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“In the whole wide train?” “In the whole wide train.”

WHY TAIL SECTION TRAIN BABIES ARE SO IMPORTANT
— SPOILERS for SNOWPIERCER

Edgar and Grey represent the first generation of the train babies. Edgar was likely born before he boarded with his mother but is referred to as being an infant in the first months of living on the train. Like Grey he doesn’t react to the smoke of the cigarette the way the adults do and has probably only heard about this “steak” he claims to have tried once, convinced through hearing those stories he could remember the taste. Grey is likely not much younger, making him another survivor of the days when babies were being used to feed the hungry under-class thousand. It’s a mystery how old or new his many scars are but he is covered in them, one particularly across his heart (and the tattooed name of his lover “Gilliam”). Had he picked fights with the soldiers he wouldn’t have likely made it out with all his limbs. It could possibly be how he went mute, tongue removed. But it also could represent how often the tail section feels forced to fight amongst each other. Edgar and Grey are two of maybe four tail section habitants in their late teens. These are the only children who survived the violent tail section starvation, pre-protein blocks.

From there the oldest child we see looks about nine and it gets younger from there. The gap is the lack of children birthed around the time everyone was still hungry and the protein blocks were still new while the three carts were still over populated as it was. The four teens we do see in the tail section are all male, any girls would have been abducted and placed in the club section for prostitution. The younger children are a mixture and it seems are only gathered and taken as needed for Wilford, which is rarely. The parts of the engine that are extinct have only been so for a very few years. So there’s about thirteen children in the tail section before Andy and Timmy are taken. They fuel this revolt. Chan is literally seen carrying the torch, and although the little guy can only run so fast he’s cheered on for a good while before Andrew Sr. and Grey take over. It’s a sign that children are encouraged and sacred for the tail section, not just emotional baggage for their parents. Even train babies Edgar and Grey are only moving forward in an attempt to rescue the children. Their lives were spared but their time on the train has been used to service the revolt.

Yona is a train baby who was middle class before she was imprisoned with her father. Her father, Minsu, turned her into an addict like Curtis as a father or big brother figure to Edgar conditioned him into a warrior and revolutionary, to later die in battle. At the end of the movie Minsu gives Curtis the world’s last cigarette and they talk about the dirty history of the tail section. They talk about Gilliam being the first to offer his own limbs to feed the people in order to save the train babies. So it’s appropriate that Curtis makes the same sacrifice for Timmy in the end, and he and Minsu die in order to save him and Yona. Both have never been in the world, are uneducated, and neither were raised in an environment where they had the chance to be good people. This is the heavy weight of why our typical strong white savior type protagonist is thrown aside, because no adult on this train was a good person. For a moment Curtis forgets theirs another option. But then we have to wonder why is humanity worth saving? Are they worth saving at all costs? If the worst that can happen when the doors open is they all die then what’s really lost?

We never see Wilford’s reaction to the news that his unborn child and the school teacher were slain. Wilford couldn’t care less about the children, which is why he turns them into machines. Would his own child have been used the same way when they turned four? Because the tail section managed to see hope in their children humanity has a chance to continue, and this time they have the opportunity to be good. “Nice.” Yona exits the train alone because she’s never had to care for anyone but herself before and before now she was completely dependent on her father. Then Timmy followers her and she doesn’t hesitate to take his hand, showing a sign of some internalized humane instincts.

My thoughts while watching GMtexas part 1

-“BAAAH” OH MY GOD
-JUDY THE SHEEP
-YAAAAAAY
-YOUNG LUCAS
-are you excited?
-PAPPY JOEEEEE
-MAYA IS SO PRECIOUS
-“you put us in the mud hole” ;((((
-3 SECONDS BABYBOY. YOU GOT THIS.
-ZAYS YEEHAW!!!
-YOU DID THIS OMG LUCAS PLEASE
-“hey… It’s all my friends” omg Lucas my young boy.
-YOU LOOK GOOD OH MY GOD.
-“you both look good” NICE SAVE HUCKLEBERRY
-OHMYGOD CLETIS
-I LOVE HIM TOO MAYA OMG
-how. Dee. Doo.
-LUKEY FUCKING LUKEY OMG
-HAHURRRRRR
-“what?” MAYAS FACE SHES SO ANGELIC
-LUKEY LUKEY LUKEY
-LUCAS TALKING TO THE BULL
-why do you hate me?
-A MAN COO. AMOOOO
-I LOVE THIS LUCAS OH MY GODDD
-OH MY GOD. MAYA. YOU CARE FOR HIM SO MUCH
-RILEY STOP PUSHING HIM.
-you’ll do great. Truth. You’re gonna die
-HELLO? CAN YOU GUYS FEEL THE LUCAYA IN THE AIR?
-STEREOTYPICAL CULTURE REDUCTION. THEY EVEN KNOW IT OH MY GOSH
-OH MY GOD. OHHHHH MYYYY GODDDDD. MAYA BBGIRL
-RILEY WHY ARE YOU OKAY WITH THIS?!?!
-this is all caps I’m so sorry.
-Riley I’m all for facing fears but…. Come on now. I’m also for PEOPLE STAYING ALIVE??
-I counted. That was more than 3 seconds. GET OFF THAT THING
-RILEY YOU KILLED HIM OH MY GOD
-Garducky
-THAT LOOK IN RILEYS EYES WHEN SHE LOOKS AT MAYA THEN LUCAS OH GOD
-AWHHH Lucas being inspirational to Timmy. LUCAS AS A FATHER!
-I couldn’t watch I don’t know why
-OH SHITS GOING DOWN OH MY GOD
-BECAUSE YOU LIKE HIM.
-you’re right. I like him like a brother OH GOSH
-you’re really important to me. Oh godddd
-WAIT IS THIS THE END OF R*CAS? NOT LIKE THIS
-oh damn. R*cas kiss.
-SHE CALLIN MAYA OUT