Surviving My Son's Terrifying Kindergarten Tales

I stared at my son Caleb Sheridan's upturned little face, and my heart sank.

He had a point there. Bryan Hunter couldn't eat celery. I remembered that very clearly.

On the day Bryan first started kindergarten, his mother, Annette Morris, grabbed the teacher's hand and repeatedly reminded her anxiously, "Please, you have to remember this. Bryan can't have celery. Even the tiniest amount will make it impossible for him to breathe."

Some time later, the kindergarten organized a salad-making activity for the kids. Bryan's classmates didn't know about his celery allergy, and one of them insisted on putting celery in his bowl.

Bryan took one bite and immediately started gasping for breath. It scared all the children in the class into tears, including Caleb.

Annette was furious and immediately called out the other child's parents in the parents' group chat.

"What if something happened to Bryan? Who would have been responsible for that? Why wasn't the teacher watching them?"

The child's parents thought Annette was making a big deal out of nothing and swiftly fired back at her. As a result, the two families got into a heated argument in the group chat.

In the end, the principal had to step in and mediate before things finally calmed down.

The incident had caused such a huge uproar in the group chat that I still remembered it vividly.

I crouched down and looked at Caleb. "Cal, I need you to think carefully now. Are you really sure you saw Bryan being taken away by a teacher?"

I remembered a video I had seen before. Children often mistook their imaginations for reality. They weren't necessarily lying, but they could say all sorts of things that weren't true.

However, Caleb's expression was unusually serious. His little brows were furrowed, and he didn't look like he was lying.

"It's true, Mommy. Bryan fell asleep during class that day, so a teacher came and took him away. The teacher was wearing a hat, so I couldn't see who it was. But I saw Bryan turn around and call for me. He was crying and saying he didn't want to go. His face was completely pale, and he looked really scared."

"And what is the punishment room you mentioned?" I pressed for more information, feeling my heart clench.

"After class, I went to look for Bryan. I heard something near the stairs, so I secretly went over and saw the teacher shove Bryan into the little room at the very end. It had a black door. Then I heard Bryan cry for a while before suddenly going quiet. I couldn't hear anything after that."

My head was buzzing.

Caleb never lied. The last time we were at the supermarket, he took a piece of candy and forgot to pay for it. After we walked out, he pulled me back inside to pay.

How could a child like him make up a story about a punishment room?

Forcing down my rising panic, I sent Annette a message.

Then I took Caleb by the hand and headed toward the activity room, where we happened to run into his teacher, Vera Jones, handing out stickers to the children.

I took a deep breath and walked over. Doing my best to make my voice sound casual, I commented, "Ms. Jones, I haven't seen Bryan today. Is he feeling unwell?"

Ms. Jones handed a sticker to the child beside her before turning to me.

"Oh, Mrs. Hunter said he was going to the hospital for a checkup today, so he's off for the day."

Just then, my phone vibrated with a message from Annette.