/This is a story someone at camp told me...you've probably already heard it, and it's probably already up here, but whatever, I'm just gonna write it here aswell...plus, I do not own this story. This is also set in times when people ate cow liver./

"Johnny, can you go down to the shops to buy a cow liver for dinner, please?" my father asked me. He handed me a ten dollar note. I took it, and nodded.
I walked down to the shops alone. When I go there, I noticed a carnival on the left side of it. There was a sign saying 'All rides to be ridden, for just ten dollars'. As the child I was, I decided to go to the carnival instead.
I came out half an hour later. I realised I had wasted the money my father had given me to buy our dinner. On the right side of the shops, I noticed a cemetery. There was a coffin lying open, preparing for a funeral. I took out my pocket knife, and while nobody was looking, I cut out the corpse's liver.

"Johnny, what's wrong? Why aren't you eating?" Mother asked me that night. By sister, father and mother were all enjoying dinner. I, however, had not eaten a bite. "Johnny, you love cow liver, don't you?" Sister asked. I nodded. "I'm just not hungry tonight. Maybe I'll eat it for lunch tomorrow." I replied.
I went upstairs to bed. I fell asleep quickly, tired from such a strange day. It must have been midnight when I was woken up again.

"Johnny...I'm on the first step."

Someone was singing to me...their voice was quiet, but I could still hear it...and it only continued to get louder.

"Johnny...I'm on the second step. Johnny...I'm on the third step. Johnny...I'm on the fourth step. Johnny...I'm on the fifth step."

I hear a quiet thud.

"Johnny...I'm on the tenth step. Johnny...I'm at your bedroom door. Johnny...I'm underneath your bed. Johnny...I have the butcher's knife. Johnny...I'm right behind you. Johnny...you're dead."

The last thing I saw was my own blood dripping down my left arm and onto the bedclothes. I never saw anything again.