I don't own Benji or Monk or any orginal character in the story. The only characters I own are my own characters
Benji came home from school one day in a really bad mood. He had a really rough day and he suspected it wasn't about to get easier. To his pleasant surprise Monk was there. Monk had become like a father to him ever since the vacation.
"Hey kiddo," he said hugging him
"Hi"
"Rough day?"
"It couldn't have gotten worse if it tried. Everything that could go wrong did"
"Yeah," Monk said nodding, "that sounds like a rough day."
After a minute of silence he said, "do you feel like talking about it"
"Actually," Benji replied, "I have to… but I don't want you to hate me-"
Monk put his hands on Benji's shoulders.
"Benj, you may not biologically be my son but I love you as a father would love his son and NOTHING you can do could make me hate you or feel any other way about you other then love"
"You do love me?"
"It's impossible not to love you"
"Well," Benji began, "it all started 4 years ago. Someone came up to me-"
"Before we get into that," Monk replied, "How about some ice cream"
"Yeah," Benji smiled, "ice cream sounds good"
½ an hour later they were settled down with the ice cream.
"When I was eight-years-old," Benji began, "some guy came up to me and said he locked his keys in his car and could he borrow my pocket knife to open the window so he could get the keys out of the car-"
"What were you doing with a pocket knife," Monk asked
"I was in Boy Scouts," Benji explained, "and I had just got home from a camping trip."
"Oh"
Monk had to bite back comments about how camping grounds were filthy and instead said, "you know I was a boy scout when I was that age"
"Really? Cool! Anyway so the guy opened the door and he put something in the car. It looked like a red balloon but it was stuffed"
"A stuffed red balloon?"
"The man handed me back my pocket knife back and handed me $100 and said thank you. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was excited about getting the $100"
"I can understand that," Monk said fighting the urge to ask what this had to do with anything about today. He knew Benji would get to it.
"Today," Benji began, "I was in history class and my teacher was talking about a bomb that was… done in a methodical way having to do with a boy scout pocket knife and a red stuffed balloon and-"
Benji was in tears. Monk pulled Benji into his arms and hugged him to himself.
"It's okay buddy," Monk told him
"No it's not," Benji sobbed, "she's dead because I was an idiot and couldn't figure out that this guy was bad news"