The Toy (March? 2010)

It had to be here somewhere, he thought. They really needed to get a new hiding place. Every birthday his Mom hid his present in their wardrobe; it was getting predictable. So when he saw his Dad hurry into the bedroom with a wrapped package under his arm, the boy knew what was going on.

He stood back and assessed the assortment of boxes and suitcases he’d stacked to gain access to the top shelf. It looked stable enough so he carefully climbed up. At the top he knelt and felt along the shelf, behind bags and old clothes. His center of gravity shifted a little too much and the stack wobbled alarmingly. He steadied himself and rebalanced, then extended to reach behind a dusty suitcase. Aha! That must be it!  Tugging the box gently towards himself, he tried not to sneeze from all the dust. He lowered it over the edge and stared with eager eyes at the plain cardboard box, hoping for a GI Joe or something that his mother wouldn’t approve of. Nervous with anticipation, he lifted the lid.

Bonus! He knew his Mom would hate it. She really didn’t like what she called “violent” games, but she just didn’t realize that all his friends played with guns and swords and pretended to kill each other. It was just normal, pretend stuff not violent. She needed to chill out a bit.

He stared at his new toy, greed twisting his face. It was so realistic! Without breathing he lifted it out of the box, and was amazed at the weight of it. Dad must have spent a lot on it. He hoped his mother wouldn’t tell him to get rid of it, like she had all the other “inappropriate” toys. Sighing, he realised she probably would. He decided to have some fun with it before that happened.

He held it gingerly with one hand and slithered down the stack. When he was sure the coast was clear he slipped out of the wardrobe and stopped at the bedroom door. He could hear the sound of the ballgame that meant Dad was in the movie room down the other end of the house. Mom was out shopping, so he was set.

Sticking the gun behind his back he crept down the hallway to his sister’s room, determined to give her a good scare before he had to give the toy up on his birthday. This would be fun.

—–

This was the second story I wrote, and first microfiction. I’m fairly dissatisfied with it but it’s all learning and practice!

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