The 4th wall

Once, there was an average school-burdened child. His name was Charlie Brown. Every day he went to the same old school on the same old road. (Coincidentally, there seemed to be no other roads in this town.) Every day he looked the same, as did everyone else. But today this monotony struck him as odd for some reason; maybe because he had asked his teacher why students needed to learn algebra.

"Why, for when you grow up of course!" the teacher had huffily responded.

"But no-one ever gets taller. So how can we grow up?"

"… I mean when you need money and your parents are too old to work."

"What's 'old'?"

"Something people wrote about in textbooks. Now, solve questions 10 through 25, WITH STEPS." And with that, the teacher returned to a 306-page book of Sudoku.

After this short conversation, a strange doubt seeped into Charlie's conscious. "Why don't things change?" one side ofhis mind asked. "Why would they? Nothing ever changes." Responded the other. He had this tick, an unusual need for answers, answers he thought he had. Luckily, after school Lucy had pulled the football out from under his feet AGAIN; derailing this train of thought or this story would have progressed much quicker. "Wait…. Story? What kind of person thinks themselves a story?" Charlie mentally chided himself.


"Oh, and you had just drew that in? HOW. BELIEVIBLE." Said the other writer mockingly.

"But it was soooo creepy! Like the panel drew itself!"


The day after Charlie woke up feeling exactly the same, but with the added smell of blueberries. "Blueberries….?" A sense of smell was new to him. Then, there was a waterfall of yoghurt and it was all like "splat!" on the paper. Blueberry yoghurt.

"Oh no, yoghurt! Where did it come from!?"

The yoghurt drowned him.




"I spilled my yoghurt on the paper, it ruined the drawing"

"Aaand we have to re-draw it now"



He woke up again and looked at the calendar.

It was yesterday.

Somehow he didn't notice.

Charlie went on to school, unknowing of his previous fate. He asked the same question, had the same football pulled out from under him. Nothing new happened with the exception of the yoghurt incident, which was erased from the world. Even after Charlie denounced it as a dream, he still thought about it sometimes; it wasn't so much the answer he was looking for, more like the right question.

"Am I real?"

Charlie Brown, 11-year-old schoolboy, had broken the 4th wall.

He lived his life as much as a character could, re-using the same gag over and over. But still that one moment where Charlie appeared to be self-conscious never went by the writers. They classified it in their memories as creepy thing they wish they could forget.