My name is David. I'm an only child with short ,dark brown hair and brown eyes. I'm an art freak, or that's what my friends call me. I just started middle school and I don't have many friends, but I have my paintings, and that's good enough for me. I hang paintings on my bedroom walls. I thought paintings were wonderful; that they were what art was at its truest.

At least, that's what I thought until I got a painting for my birthday. I was turning twelve, and my parents were all excited to give me my present.

They knew I loved paintings so they gave me a painting of a puppet. The puppet in the painting was frowning and the background was dark and gloomy. The puppet's face worn and the clothes on him looked torn up.

"This painting looks sad." I told my parents.

"Well...it didn't look as dark when we found it." My Dad said, holding up the painting in the light.

"It's beautiful David. It was stored in an old box in the basement. This painting probably belonged to your grandfather." My mom said. She frowned, and I could see that she was upset.

"I love it Mom, really. It's just that I've never had a painting like this before." I said.

I faked a smile, it always worked. It was as if my parents didn't know the difference between a real smile and a fake one.

They hung the painting right across from my bed, so I could see it right in front of me when I woke up every morning. And before I went to sleep.

The painting creeped me out. Something about it wasn't right. My parents told me that it was just old. I disagreed, but they didn't let me throw it away. They said that if the painting still freaks me out after 2 days, then I could throw it away. How bad could a painting be anyway?

When I woke up the next morning, the day after my birthday. I looked at the wall across my bed. The painting was gone.

I looked around the room. I was shocked to see over half of my paintings scattered on the floor. I was so glad that none of them were scratched that I didn't realize that the painting of the puppet was on the wall again. I looked up and smiled at the painting.

Maybe I need glasses, I thought. I carefully put back all of the paintings, one by one making sure that each was in its rightful place.

I got dressed and ate breakfast. At school I told my friends about my new painting. During the lunch period, I sat next to my friends and talked about my painting. I slumped in my seat.

"Yesterday I got an old painting from my parents. I don't really like it, it looks so wrong next to my other paintings." I told them. My friends shrugged and rolled their eyes.

"Parents. They never understand what their own kid wants." The kid next to me mumbled.

I rolled my eyes too. It was true. They don't know what a good painting looks like. After school, I played basketball with some of my other friends. I told them about my new painting too.

One of them joked, "David, one day your room's gonna be an art museum! Oh, wait, it already is!" I laughed, so did the others. When I came home, the first thing I did was go to my room to admire all my paintings.

I looked at them one by one, looking at the details put in there and gently stroking the canvas. While I was looking at the painting of the puppet, I noticed something I didn't notice before.

There was a small label at the bottom of the painting. "Alex the Unfortunate Puppet".

Alex.

I wondered why that puppet was unfortunate. I felt bad for Alex, he was all torn up. Before I knew it, it was dark and my mom had called me downstairs for dinner.

While eating dinner, I thought about how to tell my parents that I didn't want the painting. Should I tell them now? Should I simply say I hate it? After dinner, I washed the dishes. I hated washing the dishes, but it was one of those things that had to be done. It took a while to wash them all, I became impatient. I wanted to check on my paintings. Instead of finishing my chores, I quietly snuck back to my room. As always, my mom didn't see me.

I quickly looked at each painting, making sure they were alright. Then I took out a clean, white piece of thick paper and paint. I started to paint a basketball. I reached for the orange paint, but I realized I forgot to take it out. I stood up and started to walk up to my desk, but I thought I heard something from the other side of the room, where the painting of the puppet was. I walked up to the painting. Something was different, something had changed. I studied the painting closely. I gasped as I noticed the label, stumbling back to fall onto my bed. The label read "David the Unfortunate Puppet".

I couldn't sleep very well that night. I kept telling myself that I must have misread it before. I felt sweaty under the blankets. I kept waking up and finding myself staring at the painting. Sometimes it felt like it stared right back at me.

It was finally morning. I think I fell asleep really late, past midnight. I quickly got up and wandered towards the painting of the puppet. Today's the day I can finally throw away this creepy painting. All I have to do now is go downstairs and tell my parents to throw it away. I walked to the door and turned the knob. I pushed. It didn't open. I turned the knob again and pulled. It was locked from the outside.

"David." A voice called me.

"David, come here." It was a boy. It was coming from the painting of the puppet.

I quickly turned to the painting. "Who are you?" My voice barely came out of my mouth.

"My name is Alex." He introduced himself. "Please help me David! I need your help!" He pleaded.

"How do you know my name?"

"That doesn't matter! I need your help! I'm stuck inside this painting! Please help me!"

I wasn't sure whether or not to trust him. But, I'm usually very kind and helpful.

"I'll help you, whoever you are. But the moment you try anything weird, I'll scream and my parents would come running to this room." I was taught not to talk or help strangers, but Alex seemed harmless. "How do I help you?"

"Listen carefully. Come closer to the painting so I can explain it to you." The puppet seemed to smile.

I hesitated, then I took a step closer.

"Closer!" The voice yelled at me.

I went as close as I can to the painting. Then, before I knew it, it was dark.

I wandered around in the darkness. I put out my hand, but I couldn't feel anything. Suddenly, I saw a light. I ran to the light. There was a window, and through it I can see very familiar place. I saw my room. It was blurry at first, but then I saw a boy. He looked exactly like me. Next to him was my parents.

"Mom! Dad!" I shouted.

They ignored me. The boy pointed at me. "You said after three days, I can throw this away." He grinned.

My parents looked at each other. "I guess we have to keep our words." My dad shrugged and picked up the window. "Well, let's throw this thing away."

The boy smiled at me and mouthed. "I hope you like being David the Unfortunate Puppet."

A few years past. I'm still waiting to be picked up by another kid who loves paintings.

And that kid...

might be...

You.