This is a true story, a letter from a friend of mine had wrote to me, since we were best friends back in high school. I know that sounds pretty cliche, but there isn't much I can do to change your mind, so here I go. This is the exact letter she had sent me, with a few minor changes.
The Letter Edit
I had a seriously weird day last week. Like, weirder than that time we found Jason watching that Creepypasta, Squidman's Death or whatever. But honestly, I need your help with this.
It happened last Monday when I was out for a jog. I had been jogging for 20 minutes or so when I decided I needed a rest. I walked up to a bench near a park, wiping forty litres of sweat from my brow. I had only been sat down for a minute or two when a little boy walked up to the seat next to me. Just as he sat down I decided to have a quick look at him. He was pretty short and wore a yellow sweater which was odd, considering it's the middle of summer here. He also had blue jeans and some pretty shoes, which were bright red, with some white where the material changed. He looked up at me and tapped my shoulder. He asked if I watched TV, which I thought was odd until I remembered that some people use stuff like Netflix to watch shows. I thought that he was doing a survey for school about or something. Since I watch barely any TV but watch the news every afternoon with an antenna, I said that I did, and he looked down. He seemed to be thinking about what I said. He looked up with a cheery smile and asked if I watched Arthur. I hadn't watched that show since I was four or something. I shook my head and his already large smile widen.
Then a woman walked up to us. She was a fairly pretty woman, although she had that married women vibe about her. She started talking to the child, and since she called him honey, I'd guessed she was his mother. I heard the boy say to the mother, Mommy, can this kind lady come to our house to watch Arthur? It was a very odd thing to say. She said that if I wanted to, I could. He looked at me like he was waiting for an answer, as if he somehow knew I had been eavesdropping on their conversation. I had absolutely nothing to do that day, and I'd rather watch a children's show than sleep for eight hours. As I agreed he almost tore my arm off leading to me his home which was surprisingly close to the park. Half an hour of talking about a single show later, we started watching Arthur. Or a still image of Arthur's face. Not bloody, not hyper-realistic as Jason would say, just his face.
We had an amazing time. When it finished, I talked to the child and left the house. On the way home, I visited the Sunday Markets, as I felt like I hadn't eaten in a week. The weird thing about this, is that I realised something. You hadn't watched Arthur for years. Strange, isn't it? You should visit tomorrow, we can watch Arthur. I love Arthur. I'm sure you will too.
From your friend,