I look out of the crack in the toy box and I see the boy laying in bed. I´ve been in here for week, and he still hasn´t let me out. The boy´s father has just come in. He watches the boy sleep, and I wonder if maybe the best way to hurt the father is to hurt the boy. The father leaves. I slowly start pulling my self out of the toy box. It is my turn to decide when play time is.

I slowly start pulling myself into the boy´s bed. He is fast asleep entangled in his superman blankets. I slowly edge myself colser to the boy. The door opens again I flop down quickly. I am not caught, not yet. The door closes. As I stand back up, I catch a glance in the mirror. My fur is fadded and I have lost an eye, there are colorful patches over me.

Playtime.

I looked down at the boy, with his tousled black hair and pajamas. He looked so inocent. I heard in the distance the clock strike 4. I froze. I would have to bide my time. I was so close, but so far. The boy starts moving, and then. I am falling. I was kid of the bed by this dreadful kid. UGH the indignity.

The next night clock struck 3, I crawled back up into the bed and laid on the boy. He passed away in his sleep they said. They never knew the truth, and they never will.