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Ticci Toby

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station description The Creepypasta Podcast
Creepy
Duration: 46:18
When you can't feel physical pain, the mental toll can be too much, especially with a nudge in the wrong direction. Know his name...***Subscribe to the show on YouTube at: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQ3SrH_3fsROXFAjomKcUtw***Please consider supporting the podcast at Patreon.com/Creepypod&
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When you can't feel physical pain, the mental toll can be too much, especially with a nudge in the wrong direction. Know his name...***Subscribe to the show on YouTube at: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQ3SrH_3fsROXFAjomKcUtw***Please consider supporting the podcast at Patreon.com/Creepypod or creepypod.com/support***Tales can be found at Parcast.com/Tales***Guest narration by Owen McCuen, Victoria Juan, Molly Lankford, and Steve & Cheryl Blizin***Produced by Steve Blizin***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko 
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creepy presents, Tiki Toby credited to use their castaway with guest narration courtesy of all mccune victoria, juan, molly, Lankford, Cheryl blazin and steve Listen. The long road home seemed to go on and on. The role continued to outstretched in front of the vehicle endlessly to light that shone through the branches of the tall green trees danced across the window and random patterns every once in a while, obnoxiously shining in your eyes. The surrounding was full of deep green trees forming a forest around the road. The only sound was the sound of the car engine is a travel down the path. It was peaceful and let off the serene feeling, Although the ride seemed like a Nice one, it lacked every form of nice for both passengers. The middle aged woman behind the steering wheel had neat short brown hair that fitted her complexion quite well. Sure green V neck T shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Hammond said earrings decorated each of her ears, which partially chaud from behind her haircut. She had deep green eyes which were brought out by her shirt and the lighting seemed to make them more noticeable. There wasn't much significance to her appearance. She just looked like any average mother that you'd see on tv shows and such. But one thing for sure made her differ from those average mothers and that was the dark bags under her eyes. Her facial expression was gloomy and sad, although she genuinely look like one who smiled. A lot should sniffle every once in a while and occasionally glanced back in the rear view mirror to look back at her son in the back seat who was hunched over partially his arms held tight around his chest. It has had pressed against the cold window. The boy lacked any normal appearance. Anyone could plainly see that something was wrong with him. His messy brown hair went in every which way. His pale, almost gray skin was brought out by a luminescent lighting. His eyes were dark unlike his mother's. Any wore a white T shirt and scrub pants that have been provided to him by the hospital close. He had one before was so shredded and bloodstained that they weren't wearable anymore. The right side of his face baird a few cuts along with the split eyebrow. His right arm was managed all the way up to his shoulder, which had been shredded when his right side, it hit the shattered glass. His injuries appear to be painful. One really, he couldn't feel a thing, He never could feel a thing. That was just one of the glories about being him. one of the many challenges he had to face growing up was growing up with the rare disease that caused him to be completely numb towards pain. Never before had he felt himself get hurt, he could have lost an arm and felt nothing that and another major disorder he had faced was the one that deemed him many insulting nicknames. In the short time he it into grade school before he was moved to home schooling, his Tourette's syndrome, which caused him to tick in torch in ways he couldn't control, he would crack his neck uncontrollably and twitch every once in a while, the kids would tease him and call him tiki Toby and mock him with exaggerated twitching and laughing. It got so bad he turned to home schooling, it was too hard for him to be in a common learning environment with seemingly every kid poking or more like stabbing fun. Adam Toby stared blankly at the window. His face was empty of any depict herbal emotion every few minutes, his shoulder, arm or foot with twitch, every bump that the car tires hit made his stomach turn. Toby Rogers was the boy's name and the last time Toby remembered riding a car was when it crashed. That's all he thought about unconsciously. We're playing everything he had remembered before. He blacked out. Over and over again. Toby been the lucky one when his sister hadn't been so lucky. When the thought of his older sister came, he couldn't help but let his eyes begin to tear up the horrible memories replayed in his mind, her screaming that had been cut off when the front of the car was smashed in. It all went blank for a moment before Toby opened his eyes to see his sister's body, her forehead pierced with glass shards, her hips and legs were crushed under the force of the steering wheel, her torso pushed in from the late inflated airbag. This was the last thing he had seen of his dear older sister. The road home continued odd, for what seemed like forever. It took so long to get home due to his mother wanted to avoid passing the site to the crash when the surrounding gave into a familiar neighborhood, they both spend more than ready to get out of the car and step back into their own home. It was an older neighborhood with quaint little hoses all next to each other. The car drove in front of a little blue house with white windowpanes. They both quickly noticed the old vehicle that was parked in front of the house and the familiar figure who stood out in the driveway. Toby felt automatic anger and frustration take over him at the sight of his father, his father who wasn't there. His mother pulled the car into the driveway beside him before turning off the engine and preparing to step out and face her husband. Why is he here? Toby said quietly as he looked back at his mother who reached to open the car door. He's your father. Toby is here because he wants to see you. His mother responded with a monotone voice, trying to sell my shaky yet. He couldn't have driven up to the hospital to see lira before she died. Toby narrowed his eyes out the window. He was drunk that night, honey. He couldn't drive. Yeah. When is he not? Toby pushed open the door before his mother and stumbled out onto the driveway where he met his father's gaze before looking down at his feet with a stern expression. His mother stepped out behind him and met her husband's eyes before walking around the car. His father opened his arms expecting a hug from his wife, but she passed him and put her arm around Toby's shoulder and influenced him to begin walking inside. Connie, her husband began to say under a raspy voice. What? No, welcome home hug, huh? She ignored her husband's obnoxious words and passed them with her son under her arm. Hey, He's 16. He can walk by himself. His father began to follow the man, he's 17. Connie glared back at him before opening the door to the house and stepping inside Toby, Why don't we get you in your room to rest okay? I'll come get you when dinner is ready. No, I'm 16, I can walk by myself, Toby said sarcastically, glared back at his father before stumbling up the small staircase and turning into his room, where he slammed the door violently. His little room didn't have much in it, just a small bed, a dresser, a window on his walls, had a few framed pictures of his family back when they were a family before his father became an alcoholic and acted violently towards the rest of his family. To be remembered when he was arguing with his mother and he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her to the floor and there I tried to break it up, he pushed her and she hit her back on the corner of the kitchen counter. Toby could never forgive him for what he did to his mother and sister. Never, Toby didn't care how much his father beat him down. He couldn't feel it anyway, what he did care about was how he intentionally hurt the only two people he cared about and when he waited in the hospital where his sister took her last few breaths, the only person who didn't rush there was his dad. Toby stood by the window and looked out onto the street. He could've sworn he saw things out of the corner of his eye but quickly blamed it on the medication had been put on when dinner time would come around and his mother called up to him, Toby came downstairs and hesitantly sat down at the table, across from his father and in between his mother and an empty chair. It was quiet as his parents picked up their food moto be refused to eat. Yeah. Instead he just watched his dad with a blank stare. His mother caught onto his stare towards his father an album slightly. Toby looked over at her slightly and looked down at his uneaten food which he didn't touch. Toby laid in bed. He pulled his covers over his head and stared at the window. He was tired, but there was no way he would fall asleep. He couldn't, there's too much to think about. He'd been debating on whether or not to follow his mother's directions and forgive his father or to continue holding a grudge with his boiling hatred. He heard her door creak open and his mother padded into the room and sat on the bed next to him. She reached over and rubbed his back, which had been turned to her. I know it's hard Toby trust me. I understand but I promise you it will get better, she said softly. What is he going to leave, Toby said with an innocent tone in his shaky voice, Connie let her kids fall down to her feet. I don't know honey, he's staring as far as I know Kobe didn't respond. He just continued to look forward at the wall holding his damaged arm near his chest. After a few minutes of silence, his mother's side before she leaned in because his cheek can set up to walk out of the room. Good night, she said as she closed the door. Yeah. The hours passed slowly until he couldn't quit tossing and turning in. Every time he let his imagination take over, he heard the screeching of tires, the screaming of his sister and it uncontrollably jerking bed. He threw off his covers laying on his back. He pulled his pillow over his face and cried into it. He could feel his chest rise and fall as he let out a bit shaky breath as he cried. He could hear his own pitiful weeping. He would have been screaming and crying if he didn't press his pillow over his face. After a few seconds he threw the pillow off his face as well and sat up, hunched over, holding his head and breathing roughly, tears streaming from his eyes. He couldn't help but cry. He tried to keep it in, but he couldn't help but wine and whimper as he sat there shaking.
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