CreepyPasta-horror译：大嘴巴先生(10)

Mr. Widemouth's face contorted into a snarl, but only for a moment. Anger gave way to disappointment. "If you say so," he said. He spent the rest of the day under my bed, quiet as a mouse. 
The following morning Mr. Widemouth arrived holding a small box. "I want to teach you how to juggle," he said. "Here are some things you can use to practice, before I start giving you lessons." 
I looked in the box. It was full of knives. "My parents will kill me!" I shouted, horrified that Mr. Widemouth had brought knives into my room– objects that my parents would never allow me to touch. "I'll be spanked and grounded for a year!" 

Mr. Widemouth frowned. "It's fun to juggle with these. I want you to try it." 
I pushed the box away. "I can't. I'll get in trouble. Knives aren't safe to just throw in the air." 
Mr. Widemouth's frown deepend into a scowl. He took the box of knives and slid under my bed, remaining there the rest of the day. I began to wonder how often he was under me. 
I started having trouble sleeping after that. Mr. Widemouth often woke me up at night, saying he put a real trampoline under the window, a big one, one that I couldn't see in the dark. I always declined and tried to go back to sleep, but Mr. Widemouth persisted. Sometimes he stayed by my side until early in the morning, encouraging me to jump.