Jackson Miller huddled in the back of his closet, his teddy bear clutched in his arms. On the other side of the wall, he heard his father shouting at his mother. Worse than the shouting, he heard his mother crying. Jackson hugged his teddy and wished he was strong enough to make his father stop. He wished he could dry his mother’s tears. And he wished his teddy was real so that he’d have a friend through all this pain.
He wished and he wished, his eyes pressed closed, until he fell asleep.
The first thing Jackson heard before he opened his eyes was the scream. He jerked awake and found he was still in his closet. He noticed the light coming under the door and figured it must be morning. And then he realized his teddy bear was no longer in his arms. It wasn’t anywhere on the closet floor either.
“Stop!” The scream came again.
Jackson knew at once it was his mother and his heart thudded against his chest as he crept towards the door. Had his father done more than shout this time? Was he hurting her?
Jackson knew he was no match for his father, but he couldn’t live with himself if he hid in the closet while he hurt his mother. So, he gathered all his courage and opened the closet door.
His bedroom door was open and the light spilled in from the hallway. It was still night. He couldn’t have been asleep long then.
“Stop, please!”
Jackson took a deep breath and hurried from his room and towards the kitchen.
In the doorway, he froze. It took several seconds before his brain registered what his eyes were seeing.
There was blood all over the floor, pooled under his father’s head. His father’s eyes were blank and lifeless. And his mother stood, pressed against the opposite wall with her hands over her mouth.
Where had the blood come from?
But then the final piece clicked into place and Jackson realized his teddy bear stood over his father’s body. It stood over his father with a knife in one hand and a frying pan in the other. It’s shoulders rose and fell as though it were fighting to catch its breath.
His mother saw him first.
“Jackson!”
At her words, the bear turned to look at him too.
It’s normally glassy and empty eyes were full of life and triumph.
“Jack! I did it. I helped!” The bear’s mouth moved and the words were in a voice not much different from his own.
Jackson shuffled his feet into the room and stood halfway between his mother and his teddy bear.
“Wh-what… How…”
“Your wish,” the teddy bear continued, his mouth curling into a half smile. “You wished for me to be alive so you wouldn’t be alone. And now I’m alive. And I helped!”
Jackson couldn’t look too long at his father without feeling bile rise up in his throat so he decided to turn to his mother instead.
“Am I dreaming?”
His mother let out a noise halfway between a hysterical laugh and a sob. “Am I?” She sank to the floor and clutched her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“You’re not dreaming.” The teddy bear dropped the knife and the pan and walked towards him on its little bear legs. “Name’s Tim.” He stuck out one hand — paw…
Jackson blinked several times, and then put his hand out to shake.
“Nice — nice to meet you, Tim.”