My daughter's little friend

“Daddy, can we go to the store please?!”

“Kayla, what do you need?”

“Well… I want to start drawing!”

My eyes gleemed with excitement, mouth crinkled into a smile. I opened my arms wide, inviting my daughter in for a big, big hug.

“You’re going to follow in Daddy’s footsteps?”

“Yeah! I want to draw so I can become as good as you!”

“Oh my… Sweetie, I love you so much! We’ll go as soon as we have dinner, okay?”

“Okay!”

This was the first time I ever felt proud to be an artist. I adopted Kayla about four years ago, when she was two. Ever since then, I’ve been supporting us through my paintings being sold at auctions. Well… Supporting is an understatement. You see… I was never married, I never had a girlfriend even, but I always wanted to be a father. I guess nobody ever took an interest in me, so I secluded myself and began to work on my art.

When I saw Kayla at her foster home, I questioned… “Do I want to raise you for the rest of my life?” But that question was quickly followed by a hard YES when Kayla came up to me and tugged on my finger, pulling me to follow her as she wanted to show me her stuffed bunny. Ever since then, that bunny has never left her side. Even when she goes to school, she brings that bunny with her. On the bus, in the car, everywhere.

I took her to the store, and bought her a little girl’s painting set, filled with pink, unicorns and water colors.

“Daddy! Thank you so much, I love it!”

That night, we got home and I began to work on my next piece. I called it… “A Father’s Pride”. I drew my little girl being held up high in my arms, while she was holding her little bunny, high up in her arms. This was also the first painting that I’ve ever done about my daughter.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can I draw on a paper like yours?”

“You mean a canvas?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah, let me go get you a smaller one.”

“Thank you!”

I went into the kitchen, and brought her a smaller canvas, as well as a small stand.

“So, what do you want to draw?”

“Every time I close my eyes, I can see my friend!”

“And who is this friend?”

“He’s a little boy who follows me around. He’s extremely nice to me, he talks to me when I am lonely!”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool. What does he look like?”

“Well… I’ve never been able to see his face. He always stands in the dark, but he always says nice things about me!"

“Well that’s pretty neat! Did he say anything about me?”

“Not really. He just tells me that he’ll protect me if anything happens, that’s all.”

“Do you think you can draw him for me?”

“Yeah! Can I start off with a marker? Then I’ll color it with paint.”

“Here you go sweetie.”

My daughter uncapped the marker, and closed her eyes. She began drawing a little boy, a dark figure. Then she drew our bed, which my daughter and I share every night. Then she drew an arm, which the dark figure was pointing at our bed.

“No, stop. Stop. Not him! Please! Daddy, I can’t open my eyes!”

She dragged the marker from the dark figure, towards the bed, and began scribbling violently, all over me, my body in the bed.

“No, he’s my daddy. Please! He won’t hurt me, stop it!”

She kept scribbling, and I pounced off the couch and grabbed her away from the canvas.

“Honey! HONEY! Are you okay? Kayla!”

“Daddy, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to start drawing.”

“Why, what do you mean? It’s okay, everything is okay Kayla!”

“No, it’s not. Daddy, don’t sleep tonight, okay? I shouldn't have told you about him!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The little boy is selfish…”

“He’s just your friend, right?”

“Yes daddy, but he killed my parents, and he’s coming for you.”

Thud

“He’s here. He’s upstairs. I’m sorry.”

In shock, I bolted out the front door with my daughter, as she held her stuffed bunny. I called 911, as I thought somebody was in the house. And as I looked up the house to our bedroom window, I saw…

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A little boy, and two bright, white eyes…

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Staring at me.