We found this story buried in a corner of the internet. (And if you see us looking over our shoulders while writing this, mind your business please 🥲).

Alright, one sentence from it has been stuck in our heads all week:
"Daddy, did you know Mister Thompson?"

It started on her fifth birthday. After a long afternoon at an arcade, the little Roxanne refused to leave.
"Wait," she cried. "We can't forget Mister Thompson."

Neither parent knew anyone by that name. Rosy pointed toward an empty space near the entrance and insisted a man was standing there. When the car started moving, she screamed, cried, and begged her father to let him in.
(Just imagine a Desi parent here. One slap and… 🥰)

Finally, just to calm her down —and because parenting is 90% survival tactics—the father opened the back door and jokingly invited the invisible guest inside.
"Please, Mister Thompson, after you."

The tantrum stopped instantly. Rosy was thrilled as Mister Thompson was finally invited.
Over the next few months, Mister Thompson became Rosy’s invisible, imaginary friend. The parents ignored it, assuming it was just a standard childhood imagination phase.

But then it started getting weird.

Rosy talked to him constantly. Played games with him. Set an extra place for him at dinner (as someone who do the dishes, we would have gone into spirals). Laughed with him late into the night (time to call Ed and Lorraine, idiots 🫡)

Then one evening, the father walked into her room and found her coloring. One page looked like typical five-year-old artwork: messy and uneven. The page beside it was different. Every line was perfectly colored.
At the bottom was a signature:
M. Thompson 💅🏻

When he demanded to know who had done it, his daughter looked up and asked:
"Daddy, did you know Mister Thompson?"
The father denied it. But according to Rosy, Mister Thompson said they had known each other a long time ago.

By her sixth birthday, things had gotten worse. The daughter had become cold and distant toward him. During the party, after he yelled at her for spilling juice, she shouted back:

"You killed Mister Thompson"
Again.
And again.
And again.

That night, the father admitted the truth.

Years earlier, long before he had a family, he struck a man with his car on a pitch-black road. The victim was still alive. But instead of calling an ambulance like a civilized human being, the driver panicked (civic sense jo nahi thi). He picked up a rock, made sure the man never got back up, buried the body, and spent years pretending it was all a bad dream.
The victim's name? Mister Thompson.
(Note to self: Next time a kid has an imaginary friend, we are immediately running a full background check at the Crime Lab.)

Lekin picture abhi baqi he meray dost 👺

A few months later, the daughter was found critically injured after wandering into the road at night. Security footage appeared to show her holding hands with... nobody.
She survived the collision, but doctors couldn't explain one detail: the severe blunt-force trauma to her head, far worse than the accident itself seemed to account for.
The father believed he knew exactly what happened.

What do you think happened to Roxanne?

A coincidence? A psychological spiral? Karma or something else entirely?

Reply with your theory, we will read your answers and reply to you all.

Adapted from a story originally shared in Reddit's r/scarystories community.

—The Crime Times
(Your smartest friend who's dangerously obsessed with true crime 🧚🏻‍♀️)