The Curse Of The Crying Boy

I walk up to my desk chair. I must’ve fallen asleep while looking at the new project from work. It’s dark outside. I look at the clock. It’s 2:05 am. I close my laptop and get up to go to my room, to go sleep in my bed. I look at my sweet boy to tell him good night and that’s when I notice he’s not in the painting. What?

The painting is there but my sweet boy isn’t! How is that possible? I get out of my office and go down the hall into the kitchen. The instant I enter the kitchen, I see a little person run across it. I get scared.

“Hello?” I say, trying to get his attention.

He runs across the kitchen again but the time going into the dining room, laughing. I follow him to see where he’s going. I enter the dining room. He’s hiding in the corner, crouched down.

“Why are you hiding, my sweet boy? I won’t hurt you!” I walk towards him.

As I get closer to him, he gets up and runs. I follow him. He goes up the stairs. I run up the stairs, trying to catch up to him. He runs across the hall and makes a left into my bedroom.

“Hey! Don’t be scared!” I try to convince him to come see me.

I walk into my bedroom and there he is, standing at the edge of my bed, pointing at my husband and shaking his head. I walk to him and kneel on my knees; In front of him.

“Are you scared of him?” I ask.

He nods yes.

“Are you scared of me?” I ask, scared of the answer.

He shakes his head no.

“Do you trust me?” I ask. I want him too.

He nods yes.

“If you trust me, don’t you ever feel scared in this house! I’ll always protect you! No one’s going to hurt you my sweet boy” I tell him honestly.

He smiles and hugs me. I hug him back. He was meant to be mine! With his bad luck of past owners and with my bad luck with trying to conceive and miscarriage, we were meant to be together. I hug him tightly.

“I love you” I whisper.

“Kathleen?” Rene asks. Waking up.

“Yes” I answer. Just like that, my sweet boy gone.

“What are you doing?” He looks at me.

“Nothing just going to the bathroom”. I lie.

I walk out of the bedroom. I go straight to my office. I get in my office and sweet my sweet boy back in his painting.

“Goodnight my sweet boy” I kiss him on the cheek, and go to bed.

I knew there was something special about this painting the moment I saw it. The way his eyes look into your soul. Just by looking at him, you can feel his pain. You can almost live through his pain of the day he was getting painted by staring into his eyes. It’s crazy when you think of it, but I swear if you could stare into his eye, you would automatically understand what I’m saying.

I turn around, wishing I had more time with him tonight. I close my eyes and picture our life together playing, laughing, falling asleep slowly.