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OK, so I was on "Microsoft Word" on my computer this morning, typing up a story, then after church I realized someone had added to my story. Someone in my family must be phsyco. You should read it from top to bottom, its more funny that way. (Note: I'm not leaving the story like this I just thought you guys might like to read this version. I'm going to change the story after I post this.)

Here it is:
Day 1.
I trudged through the fresh thick snow all over the ground and made my way to the nearest bus stop. My legs were sore from pushing them through the frozen snow. I sat down and tried to warm my cheeks as I waited for my ride to come.
I had waited two long years to finally leave this frozen prison and today was my day. I would take the bus and ride it to the train station so I could board my journey home. It took a long time to earn the tickets for the train and still manage fines and bills, but I did it.
My boots had frozen sleet all over them. I took the palm of my hand and scraped it off. I looked up at a sign with the bus times on it. The next bus was supposed to arrive at 1:00 sharp. I looked at my watch. I was five minutes early. I waited. I looked down at my watch again and saw that the bus was five minutes late. I decided there must have been bad traffic from the slush in the street. I waited another 10 minutes. I was about to leave when the bus came.
“Sorry, there was bad traffic.” The bus driver said.
“I assumed so.” I said and paid the bus fine.
This was the last time I would be able to see this town. I leaned my head against the window feeling the cold press itself against me for the last time. I was unsure if I was going to miss this town or not.
When I reached my destination my stomach felt uneasy. I kept thinking, “Don’t board that train, you’ll regret it” I figured this was just my conscience speaking to me. I told myself that this was my only chance to return home and that I wouldn’t regret leaving because I hated snow.
I gave my tickets to the ticket master and boarded the train.
Once again I heard something speak to me. “You can always get off the train now before it starts…”
I decided not to listen to my conscience and started reading. My stomach began to stir. I took a bag of chips out of my coat pocket. After eating, it didn’t stop. I started to ignore it.
At about half of my destination the lights went off and the train slid to a halt. It was late into the night. Something in my brain seemed to have said, “I told you so.”
All of a sudden I heard strange noises coming from the train, & then I realized it was my uncontrollable farting. So many farts came out that everyone on the train started screaming because they thought a bomb went off.