Wrapped up like that, it looked innocuous enough. I remember my mom giving my dad a look, a “did you get this for her” look. If he’d picked up on it, they might have realized something was off – even if they never could have guessed what that something was – and they could’ve put a stop to it. Called the cops, hidden the present away, packed up and moved. Anything to keep me from getting my grubby little hands on it, knees covered in pajamas and pine needles, and tearing it open to reveal the toy inside.

Trigger Warning: gore, child endangerment, suicide, depression, parental neglect or abuse