ITS WORTH A LOT OF POINTS. i'm a write/animator and i'm looking for some new content! my goal is too take small stories and animate them into short films! I want you guys to come up with some unique horror/scary stories, be it plain scary, disturbing, or with a funny childish twist at the end. Warning: if you are only here to take points your answer will be reported, blocked, and removed, as well as your points earned from answering will be taken away. With that being said GOOD LUCK!!! and write me some bone chilling spooky stories lol!

Before everything happened I actually was living a pretty normal life. It was another boring day at school. I was in the seventh grade and in history class. My friend was not there which was strange since he had been there during english this morning, but at the time i thought nothing of it. As history was nearing an end the class bully John Acres (Who at the time was sitting behind me) started flicking me in the ear. “John” I said “Knock it off”. “Make me” John said.

Long story short I turned around and punched him. Not a feather punch but more like getting hit in the face by a football. I would know as I played football. I was the captain of the team which gave me a lot of enemies especially because I was only in seventh grade.

My teacher Mr.___ yelled at me and said “Mr.Reynol that is the last time you are suspended”. I yelled back “Whatever i don't care anyways i would be happy if you expelled me”. At the time i didn’t care if i got expelled but later I realized the getting suspended would cost me dearly

As I walked home I thought about earlier this year. I had gotten done with football and my dad was picking me up. He had a black Suurban with rhino lines and a sweet bumper. He told me to put my stuff in the back and climb in the front. As I was putting my stuff in the back I saw my dad’s coworkers bag in the back. I thought that was strange. When i climbed into the passenger seat i asked my dad about it and told me “ Boss man is making us carpool she must have left it in the back”. I thought that was reasonable enough so I didn’t mention it again.

While driving home I reached back for my phone trying to get it out of the side pocket on my sports bag. I almost had it but then we went over a pothole and knocked the phone out of my hands into the coworkers bag. I asked my dad if we could pull over so i could grab it but he said we would get it when we get home.

When we got home I was getting out when my mother yelled from the house “Nuh uh young man you get inside so we can have a talk”. I knew I was in trouble because she said it in that real sweet tone that always meant that “I’m not mad, I'm furious” tone.

Slowly walking towards the house I thought of all the things I could have done to get in trouble. I thought maybe I forgot to take the trash out or I used all the hot water that morning and she didn’t have any for a shower earlier this morning. But I figured it out as soon as I got inside. On the kitchen counter there was a letter from the school “my report card” I thought. And sure enough I was right. She asked me how school was today and a bunch of the other annoying questions. I asked what was the matter. She pursed her lips and said “ I saw your report card today. I thought we talked about this”. Truth be told we did talk about this. Then she said “I am going to give you two options. You get Sports or Yotube until you can raise your english grade”. You see you would think oh give up your youube channel but here's the thing i am actually good at youube i have 517 thousand subscribers. So it was a hard choice but i chose to give up youtbe which means they would take my phone, but it is much easier to sneak my phone every day then sneak 2 hours of practise.

That evening I snuck into my parents room to sneak my phone in. When I went in there I saw my phone was next to my dads. I went to go pick up my phone when suddenly my dad's phone started ringing. Quickly I dove under my parents bed. Not a second later my dad came in to answer the phone

Explanation:

When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost.We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we'd find a cup that hadn't been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried that we'd get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us.Among the house's original furnishings was an antique wooden chair, which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she'd manage to move it all the way to the center of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us.Years later, long after we'd moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse's original occupant, a widow. She'd murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she'd hanged herself.The article included a photo of the farmhouse's living room, with a woman's body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.

Explanation:

It was one a.m. and Guy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn't moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right, and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home.Why did you run, you idiot? He'd never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone.Why not just go to the police right now? You can afford a lawyer.Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. His body trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light."Mr. Halverson?" asked the grim officer.He let out a defeated sigh. "Yes. Let me —"I am terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your son's bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I'm very sorry for your loss."

based on the biblical principle proverbs 16: 32, i agree with the author of the passage "better is it that it takes longer to be angry than the strong " to the extent that i share the philosophy that the nobility of heart demonstrates the strength of a person. those who are very proud, get angry easily and show their anger toward others are really weak, but those who are noble and do not constantly obfuscate or contain their feelings of anger, are strong people

the answer is a.

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hope this !