Play With Me

I remember when your mom picked me up at the store. You were maybe 9 or 10 years old then. She didn't have much of a choice, being around that gift giving time of year, I was the only one she could afford. So she picked me up. Me. A cheap imitation of the much sought after G.I. Joe action figures. I remember being wrapped up and waiting. Waiting like I am now. I remember it well. Finally the day came that we met. You tore the wrapping off and picked me up from underneath the colored tree. Wow mom you exclaimed then hastily added a thanks. I remember.

We had many adventures together, fighting soldiers on your bed, attacking your sisters teddy bear, swimming in the bathtub. Oh yes, we had a lot of fun but still you abandoned me. I watched you grow older, Jason. I watched you stop playing with all your toys, one at a time. I watched you go from one toy to the next. And I'm watching you now, as you play your video games and call your girlfriends. It's been 7 long years, but I'm patient. I'll keep watching you from this crack.

You may not realize it, Jason, but that pocket knife you lost when you were 13 was really stolen. Oh yes, but not by any of your friends. No, it was stolen by me. Me and some of the other toys. See, we know how to get out. But we're patient. And one day, when you're home alone, we'll get out. When you're busy with your loud music or your Playstation, we'll sneak. When you least expect it, we'll creep. And then we'll play with you.