The Curse Of The Crying Boy
What Happened

I walk into his room and there he is sitting down at the kid’s table on a chair looking at the set of crayons. Does he want to draw? How would that even work? I would draw for him…. How would he tell me what to draw? Sometimes I wonder how much he can do. I do feel him when he touches me and I’ve heard in the past when I was younger that some ghosts can move objects. Can he?

I get his attention.

“Hi my sweet handsome boy” I say, enjoying my view. It’s so nice to finally have this.

He waves at me.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He points at the colours.

“Your want the colours?” I ask. Going towards them.

He nods yes.

I grab the pencils and colours and give it to him. I go into my office quickly and grab some white paper from my printer tray. I go back to his room and give him the paper. I watch him as he goes to grab a pencil, and I am amazed. He can move objects. I sit on the opposite side of him and join him.

“Do you like to draw?” I ask, grabbing a pencil for myself.

He nods yes.

“Did you used to draw when you were alive?” I ask, thinking of what to draw.

He nods yes.

“What was your favourite thing to draw?” I ask, drawing a butterfly.

He looks at his paper and starts drawing. Once done, he shows me and I’m flabbergasted by what I see. He wrote the word ‘dog’.

“You know how to write?” I ask. This is incredible.

He writes on his paper; ‘yes’.

“Wow! You are really smart for your age” I tell him, smiling. I’m so proud of him.

He writes on his paper; ‘thank you’

“It’s my pleasure” I wink.

It’s crazy. He keeps me on my feet. He amazes me every time I see him. He is so perfect. He’s sweet. He’s smart. He’s handsome. He’s kind. He’s gentle. I don’t understand who would ever hurt this sweet, innocent boy. There is not one ounce of evil in this boy.

“Can I ask you a question?” I ask, putting my pencil down.

He nods yes.

“Is it true what everyone says? About what happened to you?” I ask, with sympathy.

He looks at me, he smiles and looks down at his paper. He writes. Several minutes later, he hands me the paper.

He wrote…

‘Some is true. My name is Giovanni, I have no parents, I got killed by fire, where I lived they hurt me’

Reading those words completely destroyed me. My heart exploded in my chest. How can someone hurt a child? I knew he died in a fire, but I didn’t know it was done purposely. Also, they would hurt him. I look at him with tears building up. I would kill anyone that would try to hurt him. What did he do to deserve that? Why does god bless people with children when they can’t take care of them.. but he doesn’t bless the ones that deserve it?

A tear falls down to my cheek. My sweet boy gets up, puts his hand on my cheek and wipes my tear away.

“Did you really set fire to those houses?” I ask. Convinced that it wasn’t.

He shakes his head no.

I knew my sweet boy was not capable of doing the foul things the people said on the internet. How can a painting set a house on fire…

“How long have you been stuck in the painting?” I ask. Curious.

He shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t know.

“How did you get stuck in the painting? Is it because the artist really used your blood in the painting?”

He nods yes.

“Is he the one that killed you? Did he start the fire?” I ask.

He nods yes.

“I’m so sorry that happend to you” I cry once again.

He hugs me. I look at the time. It’s 9 pm. Wow, time flew. I hate how fast the time passes when I’m with him.

“My sweet boy, I have to get ready for bed, I’m tired!” I tell him.

He looks down.

“You could come sleep with me tonight if you want! But I have to shower first!” I say, hoping he agrees.

He nods yes.

“Okay perfect, I’m going to go take a shower and I’ll come back to get you” I smile.

He nods yes.

I leave his room, I go in my bathroom, start up the shower and hop in. I can’t believe he can write. It makes it easier to communicate, but sometimes I wish he would be able to speak. I finish my shower and put my nightgown on.

I go into my sweet boys' room.

“Ready?” I ask.

He nods yes.

“Okay come on” I smile.

He runs to me and we walk to my bedroom together. I get in my room and I close my door. I take the decoration pillows off my bed and lie in it and he joins me.

“I wanted you to know that I’m so proud of you, for how strong you are and how incredibly smart you are” I look at him.

He smiles, turns around and grabs my hand. I close my eyes and fall fast asleep.

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