W ho sneaked into my room? And why not in the parents’ room, or even in my sister’s room? She, at least, can defend herself. She is older than me!
A stranger was talking to me by texting me on my computer. Curious, but suspicious, I asked him who he was because I only have my cousins, dad, mom, my sister and two classmates as contacts. He told me that his name was Sacha and that he was 10 years old; a year younger than me. He said that he had a dog and loved virtual games. Another time, my curiosity pushed me to write him too, but I was staying suspiscious.I told him that reading was my favorite hobby. He asked me in which school I am enrolled, and if I go alone. I did not answer, but this “Sacha” resumed telling me that he is strong and that his parents trust him. He said that they do not accompany him to school. I answered with a “hhhmmm!”
He added that he had seen my profile and my photos, and that he found that I am cute as a boy. I did not answer, but a thin smile was drawn on my lips. He ended up asking me if I could meet him after school near the square so as to show me his new console and pass me some books. I answered that I would come home with my friends with whom I have no right to separate. He asked me if I could activate the webcam and send him more photos. There, I pulled myself together. I shivered a little bit and I understood that it is not a boy of my age, perhaps, but a malicious person. A malefactor …. “Moooooooooom! Daaaaaaaaaaaad! Help me! A stranger is in my room! AAAHHHHH!”
Dad came to my rescue. Mom followed him looking for words to appease my fear. I pointed to the screen of my computer. With eyes widely open, Dad approached the screen, read what this stranger was telling me, moved to the keyboard and wrote: “Do you know that it is strictly forbidden to talk to children without parental consent? I will immediately notify the police.”
The stranger, who was surely not a child of my age, stopped the conversation, and removed my name from his friends list.
I‘m proud because daddy chased a stranger, an intruder, or maybe a thief from my room without firing a shot. Mom, finding it hard to tear her eyes away from me, said in a trembling voice: “What would have happened to you, my Theo, if you had continued talking to him? My poor child, I cannot even imagine …” “But how did he get into the list of my contacts? I never added him?” Dad, still in shock, turned to me and said, “A thief! A thief always finds a way to break into people’s homes or to approach a minor, but it’s a little bit of your fault my Theo. Maybe you accepted an invitation without asking about our opinion …”