The Boy Who Cried Parents

(I’m a seventeen-year-old kid with a thirteen-year-old brother. Both of my parents are working tonight, and I’m at a friend’s house. My brother’s under strict warning to call me if he needs help with anything. At around 7:00 pm, my phone rings.)

Me: “Hello?”

Brother: *whispering* “I need you to come home. I’m not alone in the house.”

(I begin to leave and ask him questions to try to calm him down and to help him.)

Me: “What?! Where are you?”

Brother: *still whispering* “In the kitchen.”

Me: “Go to your room, now. Be quiet.”

(I get in my car and begin driving back home.)

Brother: “Okay, I’m there. What do I do now?”

Me: “Lock your door and be completely quiet.”

Brother: “But why would I be quiet if Mom and Dad are home? Hahaha, I got you good! Goodbye!” *hangs up*