Once there was a young child full of wonder and innocence.
He lived with his mother, but he wished he could live with his dad.
His mother was very mean to him, and told him hurtful things that made him cry.
Every time his mother made him cry, he would hide under his magic blanket.
It was magic because everytime he was sad and hid under his blanket when he got out from under it, he would be at his Dad's house!
The child grew up and his relationship with his mother only got worse.
One day he told his father about his old magic blanket and he learned the truth.
"Son, the blanket wasn't magic. When your mother made you upset, I would come and get you. You were always fast asleep."
The end.
Author notes
This is a short children's story I wrote based on a personal memory of mine.
I realize it's really, really short, but I feel if I were to add anything to it I would just be wasting space.
I will probably buff it later, but I'm usually very busy.
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