Now, here is the continuation of our story…

-August 18, 2012-

It was two weeks since I had gotten that helmet. I was getting used to it, and sometimes I forgot that I wore it. That's why I still use a hood when it rains. It feels comfortable.

Speaking of rain, it was a stormy day today (a Friday, I'll add). I could not even see the sun, with the clouds up there, blocking the light. That made it especially dark and stormy. I had finished my job that day, my job working at the packaging factory. I basically put items in containers to be shipped to stores.

Anyway, after I left with my paycheck of the week, a mighty one hundred bucks, I decided to go to The Soda Place at the mall and relax. The good thing about The Soda Place was that it was right there near the doorway. It was the main attraction at the mall, possibly beating the actual mall.

I arrived at the doorway, and was about to enter, when something caught my eye. It was a small package, only a few inches taller than a pop can, and as wide as your hand (not my hand). I thought nothing of it, thinking it was to be delivered to someone. So I decided to ignore it.

I walked inside the mall and into The Soda Place. It was not that full today; most people were at their homes with their families. Others were eating at a nearby fast food joint. I sat down, and ordered the usual. The bartender (as he is called) slid the pop can to me, sort of like a hockey puck. I was about to open it, since I usually taste it before buying, when my eyes were drawn to something outside. It was that box again. Why were my eyes being drawn to a small box? I couldn't stop wondering that.

"Here," I said to the bartender, giving him the cost of one pop can, three quarters. "I'm having this to go." The bartender gazed at me, confused about why I was going so soon. "Um…" He stuttered. "…see ya' later, Soda! Have a good…" His voice was drowned out by the falling rain. I looked down at the box. Why in the world did I find it so peculiar? If it was just an ordinary box, holding nothing but Styrofoam, why would I even bother to look at it the second time? These questions were bouncing around my head, as if I didn't already have enough questions needing answers. So I did what any ordinary, sensible person probably wouldn't do: I took that box, and took it home. I didn't run with it. No, running outside when it is raining is like walking outside with meat strapped to your legs and wild bulls chasing you. It's dangerous.

-At the Toonson household…-

I walked into the house and sat laid on the couch, as I was not in the mood to be sitting in a couch. Besides, my parents were always bugging me about minding my manners and all that jazz, but what can they do about it now? (Note to self: Never joke about dead parents again.) I looked at the box; there was no bar code on it, so I knew it wasn't from a store. No tag on it, another sign. And there was no "To _, from _" tag on it, so it wasn't some kind of gift. I set the box gently on the table, careful not to make the table break (did I mention I was a safety freak?). I was literally scared about what was inside. You know in the cartoons where someone opens up a box and a spring-loaded pie or anvil comes out and hits them? Imagine that, except without the funny part. You know, where the person opening the box isn't ALIVE. Yep, that's what could happen in MY world if you open a box like this.

Even though I was scared, I was also adventurous. It may make no sense that a safety freak is adventurous, but trust me, it can happen. I just wanted to open this box so much, that it would be worth the possibility of dying. Yes, I know I am insane.

So, I took a deep breath, and slowly, I tore open that box. It wasn't that hard; it seemed like it was already open, and yet it was reclosed. It took me only a minute to open it, and what I saw at first didn't shock me. I, at first, only saw Styrofoam, which was normal to find in a box. But when I slightly moved the box to get a better look in, something moved. Not me, or the box, but specifically something in the box. It looked like a tealish color, which I for some reason recognized. Then what I saw flabbergasted me, nearly making my heart explode (literally): It was not a toy. It was a sleeping, tiny Beemo. I fell over from my sitting position on the arm rest back to laying on the couch once more.

I woke up in a daze, confused about what I saw. What did I see again? I got up, noticing the box. So it wasn't a dream, I thought. I started breathing heavily, not from shock exactly, but from a sort of anxiety. I looked into the box. Yep, Beemo was still there, sleeping peacefully. I gasped, feeling like I would faint once more. I stopped myself by grabbing the lamp mid-fall. I pulled myself up with the lamp, but I started losing my balance, and nearly fell onto the coffee table onto the box. I grabbed the table, sighing in relief, but I noticed a noise. The box was moving again, this time in reaction to me grabbing the table. It fell over, onto its side. Beemo was pushed out in a flood of packing peanuts.

Beemo opened his eyes, looking drowsy. He looked confused, as did I. He looked at me, and didn't say anything. I knew why; he doesn't know how to speak yet. He got onto his two legs, attempting to walk. He failed, falling onto his side, and waving his arms around in fear. I, still shocked about this, picked him up off his side. I put the spilled box on the shelf, with packing peanuts still in it, and I took Beemo upstairs. I placed him on my bed, and laid down on it. Beemo still looked scared and confused. I thought that felt funny; in the past few months, I was feeling very confused, and scared of what I would do out of college. I was thinking something real crazy, but I said it out loud, to no one in particular, but with Beemo hearing:

"This is exactly what I needed," is what I said. Beemo heard me, and as if to respond to it, he seemed to smile. Now, I know young children (or young robots) don't exactly know what adults say, not knowing full English yet. But I felt that Beemo was secretly happy about meeting me. What if I never found him? I didn't want to think of that. Right now, I only knew that at this point in time, this is what needed to happen: me and Beemo together. I feel asleep drinking my soda, and Beemo fell asleep with me.

I know trying different things is hard to do, especially a transition from mainly humor to mainly plain emotion, but I just want to make you, the audience, feel happy reading this. If it doesn't fit your needs, then that's okay with me.

So, I have decided to make a new fan fiction in October. It is a special Halloween-themed fan fiction, centered on creepypastas. Not just creepy pastas: Creepy pastas battling each other to the death, one-on-one each chapter! CREEPYPASTA DEATH BATTLES! Are you excited? Then start planning ideas for CREEPYPASTA BATTLES now, because once the intro chapter of it is posted, any or all battle ideas will be taken! So hurry up, think some up! Remember: Any creepypastas can battle. You can do it with famous creepypastas, obscure ones (if obscure, link me to the story), or ones you made (again, link to it). So, sayonara!