Troll Me Is Troll Me Not


After an uncomfortable night’s sleep, Bobby Johnson hoped he looked better than he felt. His back hurt, his feet were sore, the tip of his nose wouldn't stop itching and no matter how many times he washed his hair, it still stunk.

            It took a lot of convincing for his parents to let him sleep in his room. When his mother saw him, she screamed and fainted. His father held up the family cross, crossing himself numerous times. Neither one of his parents dare touch him. He was a freak!

            His parents stayed huddled together. His father still held on to the cross. Bobby's mother wept continuously and his father was ready to call for the family priest.

"It's me, Bobby, your son." Bobby pleaded with his parents.

"You're not our son." said his father.

"We don't know what you are." This came from his mother speaking for the first time. "George, what are the neighbors going to think?" Mrs. Johnson addressed her husband with the question.

"I don't know, I don't know." His father said shaking his head.

"You won't boil us in oil, will you son?" asked Mr. Johnson.

"Dad, I'm your son, not some monster." wailed Bobby Johnson.

"Have you seen yourself Robert?" asked his mother.

"Not lately. Why?"

"Maybe you should take a look son." suggested his father.

            Bobby Johnson stepped around his parents. His father crossed his chest as he past holding up the cross.

"Ugh!!" he cried out loud.

"I have a tail now. What is happening to me?" Bobby shouted standing before his parents.


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