I awoke to my wife sewing my eye back on. Actually it was a button with a bit of Sharpie. The sad creases in her face told me life hadn't been easy since I died. When she came home with my son, he seemed so big. My little Billy was a big boy now. He looked about five.
He smiled and said "Wow! A cowboy!"
The last thing I remember was the car accident. Feeling a lot of pain. Hoping the other driver was insured. Then nothing.
Billy played with me all day until it was time to go to sleep. Hearing him laugh and seeing him again was wonderful. Then I watched my little boy sleep. As hard as it was to believe, I was back.
Sitting there in an empty room for most of the day was the unbearable. It was only when the cat tried to get me that I moved for the first time. It sunk it's teeth into me and I freaked and made an "Aaah!" sound and flailed my arms a bit. Scared the hell out of the cat. Sorry Fizz!
So during the day I would try to practice moving. It wasn't like before when everything was so easy. I had to visualize myself standing up and concentrate on myself propelling to an upright position. It was hard and for the longest time I would sit up briefly only to collapse again too tired to think. The best part of the day was still when Billy came home and would drag me around the house with him. He was getting better at talking every day. He still had a chubby little face but was growing so fast.
One night I managed to get to a mirror and look at myself. I was a crudely made doll with jean fabric and a light brown shirt. Clothes that had been made from my own real clothes.
Soon enough summer was here and Billy was home all day. There was a lady who cleaned and would look after him during the day. She didn't like me and thought I was creepy. So every chance she would grab me and toss me back in the room. Still I knew every day I was lucky just to see my son.
One day the lady's boyfriend came to pick her up. Right away I knew this guy was bad news. The way he leered at my family. I was one foot tall and made out of cloth. What could I do?
As time went on I would still try to move at night. Little noises would break my concentration every once in a while.
Until one day that same man opened the door to Billy's room at night. How did he get in? That same look on his face.I saw him reach for my son and lost it. With all my strength I threw myself at his face. I held on with all my strength while he tried to pry me off of him. It was only when he fell that I saw my chance. I shoved a stuffed panda bear into his face, screaming and grunting, I pushed down like never before. His eyes were wide with fear but I pushed down until he stopped struggling. Over his mouth and nose, until I was sure he was gone.
When the light flicked on and the police came into the room, everything started going black. I lost focus and felt myself leaving with a sense of peace. My Billy was safe.