The little boy looked down at the box in his room. It was a small, cardboard box with his name and address, but no actual sender. His mother suggested it must've been a gift for his birthday from a relative, and told him they could open it together in the morning.

But the boy didn't want to wait that long. The morning was way too far away for him, especially given that he wasn't exactly the most patient little one. What child was patient enough for that, anyway? Surely he could do without the wait.

He was restless, even at this hour, all because of that box. It was after dark now, far past his seven o' clock bedtime. Even his mother was asleep at this point. She was very tired lately, after all. It was a common theme for the woman. But the child still didn't want to wait. After all, his mother being asleep meant that the boy was the only one awake in the whole house. It was just the boy, his box, and his tiny purple-dragon nightlight to guide his vision.

The boy poked at the box, as though waiting for something to happen, his large jade eyes wide with wonder. There was a chill in the room that had never been there before. Ever since the box had arrived, so did the chill. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as though his body was screaming and fighting his curiosity, begging him to refuse.

It taunted him. Called his name. It wanted to be opened. It wanted to be opened by him! The tenseness of the situation was getting to be so high for the little boy, he couldn't help but stand there, staring at the box the way a starving wolf might look at a fresh steak.

The boy himself knew he wasn't supposed to open the box, but... it was just so tempting, wasn't it? The tantalizing call of silence, tugging at his chest, trying its hardest to draw him ever so closer to himself.

"Mommy doesn't want me to open the box. Mommy doesn't want me to open it. Mommy always knows what's best for me. She says she does, right?" The boy whispered in his higher-pitched voice, then started pacing around again. It didn't help that his mother had plopped the thing right down on his bed even though she'd been the one to tell him not to open the stupid thing anytime soon. So really, this was her fault if he opened it, right? He couldn't possibly be the one to blame when she'd made it so easy to break the unbinding rule! Besides, the gift was addressed to him, now wasn't it?

The little boy rocked debately on his heels for a few seconds, then climbed up on the bed. The eagerness to open the box, the suspense he felt from it- it was becoming too much for him to bear. He had to open it. He had to open it now! He peered down at the box, childish curiosity getting the better of him. He longed to know what could possibly be inside the box, especially if it was a present. But his mother had seemed so cautious... Well, eight year olds always threw caution to the wind anyway.

The boy climbed on his bed with a giggle of sorts, his face lit up with both the illumination of his excitement and the lightbulb he had positioned just on the other side of the box, so he could see what was in it easily. The tape wasn't very hard to get off, either, it was just a quick tear, and the boy had the box open. His little chubby fingers trembled ever so slightly as he reached to the box, trying to contain his excitement. He threw open the box.

He screamed.

An ear-shattering, blood-curdling scream, that was cut off in seconds as the little beast inside the box pounced out at him, and held him down, its sewn smile eerie and those big red button eyes staring lifelessly at him. "I told you not to throw me away." The colorful plushie toy whispered in its gentle, but firm voice. The boy cried softly as he stared up at it. "I told you that you could trust me. I was your best friend. But then you told your mommy I was talking to you. And I was in the trash can. That made me very upset." The toy said quietly. The boy couldn't scream anymore.

"Now it's time to pay the price for that." The plushie whispered. The boy's eyes shot open with fear. The eerie quiet struck him harder than a bat. His eyes slammed shut. Without realizing it... he fell unconscious.

A memory arose in his mind. In his sleep. In his dreams. The boy was laughing. All was well. His crazy curled locks had been straightened out and combed neatly down by his mother not long ago. He was in a small grey suit, with a striped red and blue tie that he'd argued with his mother about wearing about an hour ago.

The boy ran through the field in front of him, the yellow arms of the soft, tall grass reaching up and brushing against his fancy-dancy dress pants as he ran past them, screaming happily the way little kids tended to do.

There was a small, calm breeze, like a gentle whisper of a kiss, but chilly against the skin. The sky seemed to be more orange than anything, and the clouds were white, pink, and yellow, all depending on how close they were to the setting sun.

A foothill behind the boy, leaning against an oak tree, the boy's mother and father sat on an iconic red and white checkered blanket. Everyone was dressed up, too. His mother was wearing a red dress with velvety swirls on it, and his father wore a black suit with a baby blue tie that matched his eyes perfectly. They were laughing. They were talking. They were happy.

The boy gasped when he tripped over something, then landed on the dirt with a thud, and an "Oof!" Nothing out of the ordinary for a young child such as himself. Of course, when he lifted his head, the boy started laughing. He stood up, and brushed himself off. There was mud on his trousers. Oh well, it wasn't like he was the one that had to do the laundry yet.

"Son! Come here, we have something for you!" The boy's father called, voice carrying across the hill that separated them. Naturally, those round brown eyes filled with wonder, and the boy took off in the direction of his father, laughing happily at the prospect of a gift, since it wasn't even his birthday or anything.

The reason the family had gathered together at all in such a sweet, sweet spot in their most desirable attire was because a few hours ago, his mother's sister had gotten married. The whole thing was long, boring, and confusing to the little boy, but at least he'd been trusted as a little kid to run along with expensive things- AKA he'd been the ringbearer.

"What? What is it? Can I have it? Please? Please?" The boy gasped when he finally made it to his parents, smiling brightly even as he panted. His mother chuckled lightly behind her hand, and his father smiled, a tranquil grin, then tilted his head to his son. "How about you catch your breath first, Sport." The man purred lightly in amusement.

The boy sat down, and started munching on one of the sandwiches he'd been brought, then looked expectantly up at his parents, still smiling, with streaks of jelly already smearing his cheeks after only three or four bites.

"Can I see it now? Is it a present?" The boy asked with a smile, and his father nodded, and chuckled lightly. "Yes, yes Sport, it's a present." The man sniggered lightly, then reached into the picnic basket- when he brought his hand back out, there was a very colorful little bunny in his hand.

The little boy stared up at the plushie, surprised, then laughed. "That's a girls' toy, daddy! It's got pink legs! And arms! And a purple face!" He laughed, then started giggling ecstatically. His mother rolled her eyes lightly and shook her head, then frowned up at her husband. "Actually, Sport," The man started, "this little guy used to be my favorite toy when I was little." His father explained patiently. That quickly quieted down the little one.

"Then it's not really a girls' toy, daddy?" The boy asked, and his father chuckled again softly, then shook his head. "Stuffed animals are for everyone. It's not like an action figure versus a barbie doll. It's soft and cuddly and good for sleeping. The best toy there is for someone your age. Here." The boy's father grinned again, and set the blue-eared rabbit in his son's lap.

"So, what are you going to name him?" His mother asked with a caring smile. "I dunno. Bonnie? He's a bunny, so that makes sense! Or Mr. Chocolate-Face! Or Marshmallow! Or Orange Juice! Or-" "Ok Sport, make sure you keep track of it." His father chuckled, interjecting his son's words, then reached over and ruffled his little boy's perfectly-done hair. The boy laughed again, then hugged his new plush rabbit to his chest, eyes twinkling joyously before falling closed again.

But...

That was only the past. It was merely the beginning. A wonderful dream can be whisked away within seconds if something just terrible enough takes the stage, and steals the show. Things change. And dreams such as that, can so easily turn into nightmares. And a nightmare, this was turning out to be.

The next morning, those brown eyes opened again, and the boy sat up, with a strange, wicked smile plastered across his normally-friendly smile. He stepped out of the bed, and laughed at how strange it felt to be inside a human body.

On the bed, the light of life shone in the button eyes of the abandoned doll, a boy trapped inside. And as the child's body left the room, the child's being tried its hardest to escape the doll.

He knew just as well as the creature that had stolen his body, however, that the only way to escape, was to get his body back. His adventure was only just beginning...