Don’t Damn Me!

Little Jamie Knolls sat pawing at his bruised and battered teddy bear. He was five and a quarter years old, the quarter was important and he’d always been sure to put people right, should they leave it off.

The teddy bear had been a birthday present on his third birthday, from a friend of the family. He had almost instantly named it Rolo, after his favourite chocolate treat.

It was a deep, chocolate brown, and had once been plush and plump, but now seemed a little frayed around the edges. The fact it had been played with every day since their introduction, meant it was looking a little gaunt too, from constant squeezing.

In a moment of sheer frustration, only the night before, he had pulled one of it’s eyes out and thrown it across the room. The gesture had worked and his Mother had immediately given in and offered him “just one biscuit”, by way of a compromise.

It was this new injury he sat trying to fix now.

He already had something to replace the lost eye, it sat on the edge of the bed beside him, and as he lifted it into his little hand, and lifting the tube of toothpaste he’d previously snatched from the bathroom, he squeezed an ample amount over the back of the eye.

“Jamie, is everything OK, sweetheart?” His mother shouted up the stairs.

“Yeah,” He replied, hoping she wouldn’t come up the stairs to find out what he was doing, “I’m playing with Rolo.”

“Is your sister OK?” She pressed.

He scanned his eyes over his little sister, as she lay with her head on the pillow, peaceful and quiet.

“She’s sleeping.” He lowered his voice.

“OK. I won’t be long, if she wakes up give her a bottle.” She went back to impressing her visitors with stories of her last vacation, bragging about the temperatures and lifting out a pile of photographs so big, they would have bored even the most eager of participants.

With his Mother gone, Jamie went back to playing doctor. The stickiness of the toothpaste on the back of the eye made it easier to grip, and it wasn’t difficult for him to push it tightly into the empty socket of his beloved toy.

He hadn’t really given much thought as to how it would work, or if it even would. He just knew it was a good idea to put another eye in the hole. The old one had smashed on impact with the living room wall.

There would be trouble, he knew that. His Mother wouldn’t be happy and he might get a smack. The thought made him tense.

On the bed, around his little sister lay half a dozen or so dolls, in varying sizes and shapes. Each doll was missing at least one eye.

Mummy isn’t going to be happy.

Most of the eyes had been too small, but he’d found one he liked, and as he looked at it now, resting in the socket of his Rolo, he smiled. It was an impish grin, more than a smile, but he was happy and content.

His contentment didn’t last. It rarely does in five… and a quarter year old boys.

He jumped off the end of the bed and raced to the bathroom for a pee.

As he stood on the step in front of the toilet, going about his business, he could hear raucous laughter from downstairs. Mummy isn’t going to be pleased.

Running back into his bedroom, he went straight back to the bear, hoping the eye would be fixed now. He lifted the bear and the eye moved a little, but didn’t fall out. The sticky liquid on the orb had served to harden a little and attach itself to the material at the back of the eye-socket on Rolo. He knew it would.

Jamie smiled, broadly. It worked!

He could tell the sticky substance hadn’t hardened completely yet, and decided to leave it a little bit longer, before playing with Rolo again.

On the portable Television, in the corner of the room, the theme music to He-Man started. His eyes darted to the screen and he stood up and began playing with an imaginary sword, his voice echoing “By The Power Of Greyskull”.

He leapt across the room, threw himself down in front of the T.V. And sat cross-legged, eyes fixed to the screen.

Downstairs, his Mother passed photographs around the room, each person taking it in turn to laugh, sigh, gasp or confess their jealousy, dependant on the photo they’d just been passed.

Sheila Knolls was revelling in the attention, her eyes were wide open and sparkling with joy, her grin wide and reminding anyone who would notice, how young she looked for her 39 years.

The laughter lines and crows feet had been removed last year, another extravagance her husband’s high paid job had allowed for.

She wore a low cut vest-top, designed to show off her more-than-ample cleavage, for her petite frame.

Anyone who had taken time to look, would have seen the swell of her breasts didn’t move very much. Another operation, another vain luxury. This time the luxury had been at the request of her husband, who had almost dribbled as they discussed it.

“Everyone OK for tea?” She asked, ever the dutiful host.

Everyone was fine.

“Biscuits, cake, sandwiches,” She started, “They’ll only go to waste, might as well finish them off.”

Joanne Marshall, a plump and slightly older lady reached out a hand and took another slice of cake. “You twisted my arm.” She giggled.

The group giggled with her.

As Jamie sat on the carpet, his hands still risen in front of him, playing with his invisible sword, he couldn’t help but periodically stare back at his favourite soft toy.

The eye didn’t look right, it was messy, the fit wasn’t perfect, it made him feel uncomfortable. It was like Rolo had taken on a different personality. He cringed a little.

He-Man ended, and the credits filled the screen, Jamie jumping to his feet and playing the role again.

His eyes were drawn back to the bear with unmatched eyes.

This time it was more than a cringe, it scared him.

He edged slowly to the edge of the bed, lifted the bear and threw it in front of his sister. She didn’t stir.

The bear landed in front of her, nestled against her arm.

Jamie reached into a large plastic crate by the wall, his hand searching for something, then pulled back out, his fingers gripped tight around the hard plastic of a large He-Man action figure.

My new favourite toy. He Smiled and searched for the dreaded enemy, Skeletor.

The front door closed, Sheila walked back into the living room, lifting plates, cups and stray items of food onto a tray.

She lifted the tray, careful to balance it in her arms, then walked it into the kitchen. She would do the washing up later.

Heading back through the living room, she started to ascend the stairs, enjoying the feel of the plush, white carpet against the bare soles of her feet.

“Is everything OK, Jamie?” She called, from about half way up the stairs.

No answer. Probably sleeping too.

She stopped at the top of the stairs, taking just long enough to lift a piece of fluff from the carpet. That’s the problem with white carpet, it shows up everything. She remembered her Mother announcing, upon first seeing it, her eyes immediately drawn to imperfections.

She opened the bedroom door and stepped inside, smiling.

The scream was loud, and quickly turned into a hysterical shriek.

Her thoughts raced, but she couldn’t speak.

As her eyes darted from one place to the next, she took in the horrifying scenery. Including the image of Jamie, looking up at her from his position on the floor, nervously.

Laying, somewhat peacefully, on the bed, little Samantha Knolls only had one eye, the right one, the other missing from the socket completely, congealed blood filling the gap.

Above the missing eye, was a large purple and black patch of skin, sat at the top of her forehead.

There was a small gash on the eyebrow above her still and glazed, right eye.

Some of the blood from that gash was still on the headboard above.

She saw the dolls, their empty eye sockets and then became transfixed on Rolo.

As her mind made the connection, realising that was her baby daughter’s eye staring back at her, from the bear, she felt her legs weaken and everything went black.

THE END.