Antissa spun in circles on her front lawn, grasping a dandelion in each of her tiny hands.  Plumes of little white peddles parachuting into the summer breeze.  She giggled and fell dizzily to the lush green fescue sure to stain her lovely yellow dress.  Her mommy would be mad, but such things are not for four year olds to concern themselves with.  Antissa just searched the lawn looking for more dandelions while waiting for her mother to return with some lemonade.

“What are you doing young lady?  You are going to ruin your dress.”  Margaret Tilly exited the front door and gave a playful frown at her daughter.

“Just being cute.” Antissa replied, now rolling in the grass and giving her mother a sly smile.

“Why don’t you come over here and have something to drink.  I have lemonade.”  Mrs. Tilly shook the glass towards Antissa, giving an encouraging smile.  “You have to at least try it.”   

Antissa wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Ok, I guess I will have to take the pie back to the market.  Little girls who don’t listen to their mommies don’t get pie.” 

Antissa jumped to her feet and grabbed the lemonade from her mother’s outreached hand.  She took a big swig causing her face to prune up from the sourness.  “Do I get pie now?”

Mrs. Tilly laughed, “we will have to wait for your father to get home from work before we have pie.  Of course I expect you to eat dinner first as well.” 

Antissa looked down at her lemonade and back up at her mother with her little scrunched up face.

“I am guessing you don’t like the lemonade.  Would you like something else, like water or chocolate milk?”

“Chocolate milk please, and can I drink it with a bendy straw?”

“Yes you can.”

Antissa squealed with glee and pretend fainted on the grass.

Margaret Tilly returned a few minutes later with a small glass of chocolate milk with a pink and white striped bendy straw draped over the edge of the glass.  “Here you go, one chocolate milk.”

Antissa laid still on the grass face down, not responding to her mother.

“Antissa?” The glass of milk shattered on the cement walkway in front of the house and Margaret rushed over to her daughter.  She rolled he over and saw a large red welt on Antissa’s shoulder and swelling around her neck.

Margaret ran to the car and rushed her daughter to the hospital, hoping Antissa would be ok.

“Hello Mrs. Tilly, I am Dr. Khan.  Your daughter has had a severe reaction to a bee sting.  The swelling has gone down, but I would like to keep her here overnight.”

“A bee sting? I had no idea she was allergic to bees.”  Margaret rubbed her hands together nervously, she tried to relax a bit knowing Antissa would be OK, but the rush of nervous energy persisted.  “Can I see her?”

“Of course, I will have a nurse come and get you when we move her to the third floor.”  The doctor paused breaking his stoic façade.  “She is going to be OK.  I know this scared both of you, but you got her to the hospital in time.  She will be back to herself soon.”

Margaret hugged the doctor and cried, venting her built up emotions and feeling grateful that everything would be OK. 

By that evening Antissa’s hospital room was filled with balloons and flowers, along with a large stuffed bumblebee that Jim Tilly refused to confess to buying for his daughter.  Margaret knew his twisted sense of humor; this was something he definitely did whether he confesses to it or not.

Mrs. Tilly stayed the night with her daughter at the hospital sleeping in what looked to be a comfy chair, but turned her sleep in to a new form of sleeping yoga.

The morning came and Antissa was released from the hospital along with her fleet of balloons and stuffed animals.  All that is except the bee, she and her mother decided to leave that one behind. 

In the car Antissa buckled herself in to her car seat and let her mother pull the seatbelt snug.  “Which one of your stuff animals do you want to hold on the way home?”

“I want my bear mommy.”  Antissa pointed to a brown teddy bear with black button eyes and a sewed in black thread nose.

“Your bear?  Where did this come from?  I don’t recall anyone bringing you a bear.”  She shrugged and picked up the bear handing it to Antissa.  She noticed a note tied with red ribbon around the bears neck.  She removed the ribbon and note and gave her daughter a quick squeeze and peck on the cheek.  Her back was still sore from sleeping in the chair, but leaving the hospital with a healthy daughter made a night of tossing and turning well worth it.

Before she started the car she read the note.

I too was scared as a child, but I had a friend that helped keep all the bad things away.  My friend was named Mr. Wuggles and he looked a lot like this one.

~ Mr. Stix

“Mr. Stix?  I have no Idea who that is. Maybe it’s a gift from the staff?” Margaret muttered to herself tossing the note to the passenger’s seat.

Over the next few weeks Antissa and Mr. Wuggles were inseparable.  Margaret didn’t recall telling Antissa the name on the card, but she must have heard her.  At first Antissa seemed like her normal self, but the more time she spent with the bear, the more she changed.

Margaret couldn’t put her finger on it, but she could tell her little momma’s girl was growing distant.  Margaret reflected on changes such as Antissa’s initial fear of the outdoors, because that’s where the mean bees live.  Now she and Mr. Wuggles played in the backyard happily.  She knew kids were resilient, but this change was immediate. 

Mrs. Tilly reflected on these changes while sitting on a lawn chair, reading a book.  Antissa sat near the hedge with Mr. Wuggles giggling.  Margaret felt something small bounce off her leg, but paid no attention to it.  Then something similar bounced off the back of her book and landed in her lap, followed by more giggles.  Margaret looked down at her lap and saw a dying bee convulsing, both wings ripped off.  On the ground at her feet she saw five others.

Antissa gave her mother a sideways glance and leaned over whispering to Mr. Wuggles before taking another glance at her mother.

“Antissa!  Bees are dangerous for you.”

“Mr. Wuggles won’t let them hurt me like you did mommy.”  Antissa picked up her bear and walked past her mother on her way back in to the house.  “I know Mr. Wuggles, you will protect me.”

Margaret watched as Antissa walked by, completely crushed by what her daughter had just said.  She felt like the wind was knocked out of her.  Could her daughter blame her for being stung?  And when did Antissa start torturing bugs?  Especially the very thing that nearly killed her just a few weeks ago? 

Jim will be back from his business trip by the weekend, they needed to talk.  Antissa clearly needed help dealing with what happened and has become overly attached to her teddy bear.  She planned on calling him tonight after Antissa went to sleep.    

Thursday morning was Antissa’s weekly play date at the park.  She hadn’t wanted to go for a while, but this day she wanted to go and show Mr. Wuggles how high she could go on the swing set and that she could slide down the big kid slide.  Margaret hoped getting back in to her old routine would help Antissa feel more like her old self.

Antissa swung on the swing and slid down all the slides, and Mr. Wuggles never left her side.

Margaret chatted with another mom perched on the benches by the water fountain.  She was glad to be out of the house for a while.

Antissa sat on the merry-go-round letting her feet dangle over the edge as it slowly spun.  “Yes Mr. Wuggles.  I know Mr. Wuggles.  I would like to meet your friend.”  She chatted away with her bear.

The merry-go-round came to an abrupt halt as a stocky boy in a striped shirt grabbed one of the bars around the edge.  “No girls allowed.  This is for boys only.” 

“I don’t think you are being very nice.”  Antissa played with her bears ear while she talked.

“Boys only.  Get off!” The boy blustered.

Antissa balled up her firsts and glared at the boy.  “I was here first.”

Margaret got up from the bench and picked up Antissa.  “Is everything alright, sweetheart?”

“He said I couldn’t ride the merry-go-round because I am a girl.”  Antissa pointed at the boy, curling her face into a snarl.

“Especially ones that play with dumb bears.”  The boy added.

Antissa grabbed her teddy bear tightly. 

“Where is your mother, young man?”  The boy ignored Margaret and held on to the bar using one foot to spin the merry-go-round, not even bothering to look at her when she spoke to him.

“Come sweetheart, maybe you should go play on the slides instead.”  Margaret gave Antissa a kiss on the cheek and set her down.

Antissa paused for a second before answering.  “Yes.”  She said coldly, as she looked back at the boy, but she wasn’t answering her mother.

Margaret returned to her spot on the bench watching to make sure the boy stayed away from her daughter.

“Nasty little bugger isn’t he?”  A man’s voice spoke softly from over her shoulder.  “I have seen him bully kids for nearly two hours now.  I think his mother dropped him off to play by himself while she is off doing God knows what.  Honestly, he is the safest kid here, no one in their right mind would abduct that little monster.”

Margaret turned to the thin man dressed in a dark blue suit and gave an unsure smile.  “His mother left him here alone?” 

“As far as I can tell, and he has been terrorizing the park community ever since, like a tiny Godzilla.” 

Margaret giggled and asked if the man would like to sit down.

“I would be delighted, thank you for the invitation.”  The man adjusted his fedora and tie before sitting on the bench.

“It is an awfully warm day for a suit.”  Margaret remarked, happy to be interacting with another adult.

“I don’t mind the heat; I have spent a lot of time in the heat. It is the brightness I am not use to.”  He adjusted his hat again to block the sun.

“Hi, I am Mrs. Tilly. But, you can call me Margaret.”

“I am Mr. Stix, and you may call me…” 

“Wait, I know that name.  Do you work at the hospital?  You gave my daughter a teddy bear.”  Margaret interrupted.

Mr. Stix rubbed his finger on his chin in thought.  “Is that little Antissa?  Yes, I did give her the bear.  My company sponsors a program at the hospital.  We provide encouraging notes and stuffed animals to children.”  Mr. Stix flashed a smile.  “I hope she is feeling better?”

“She is doing great; she is back to her old self.”  Margaret figured if she said it out loud, maybe she would believe it.

Their conversation came to an end with a loud thud and a scream.  Both turned to see the stocky round faced boy laying on the ground grabbing his now broken arm.

Antissa stood next to the merry-go-round glaring at the boy.  The merry-go-round itself spun at a fantastic pace before slowing and coming to a stop.

The boy continually cried for his mommy as a large woman came strutting up the path wearing yoga pants and a bright pink shirt with the word “Glamour” across the front in gold glitter.  “Ross it’s OK baby, momma is coming.”

“Well, his mother is here after all and is exactly what I expected.”  Mr. Stix remarked sarcastically.

Margaret ignored the comment and rushed over to pick up Antissa.  The afternoon was eventful enough, it was time to go home.

She gave a glance back toward the bench where she had been sitting with Mr. Stix, but he was no longer there.

“Antissa, did you see what happened to the boy?”

“I think he will learn to be nice now.”  Antissa grumbled still wrinkling her forehead.

Margaret knew Antissa couldn’t have spun the merry-go-round that fast.  The boy must have flown five feet.

Antissa was quiet for the rest of the evening.  Margaret spoke to Jim later that night.  He tried to reassure her that Antissa was going through a phase.  He was able to cut his trip short and should be home Friday evening.  Margaret was right, they needed some family time.  Maybe they could take a day trip to the coast on Sunday?

Friday morning came and Antissa sat at the dining room table playing with Legos.  “Mommy, Mr. Wuggles wants to go outside and draw with my sidewalk chalk.”

“No sweetheart, it is too hot outside right now.  The sidewalk will burn you.  I thought you were playing with your Legos?”

“Mommy, Mr. Wuggles wants to play with my sidewalk chalk now.” 

“I said no, Antissa.”  Mrs. Tilly looked at her daughter sternly.  “That is my final word.”

“You’re not being very nice!”  Antissa stomped off to her room.

Margaret washed the dishes that were left in the sink and returned to the dining room table to pick up Antissa’s Legos.  She noticed a warm breeze coming from the sliding glass door and turned to find the door was slightly ajar.

“That’s odd.” Margaret said under her breath knowing full well she had closed the door.  She reached to close it when she noticed the sidewalk chalk box spilled on the back patio.

Margaret opened the door and stepped outside to find crudely drawn pictures of the family in the house.  Stick figure drawings of Daddy and Antissa, and of course Mr. Wuggles were all inside the house with smiling faces.  A stick figure of what Margaret assumed was her was on the outside of the house with a sad face.  Blue dots were above her head which Margaret thought might be rain.

Margaret looked to the sliding glass door and Antissa stood there frowning. 

“You are in big trouble, young lady!”  Margaret wagged her finger at Antissa.

Antissa showed no reaction to her mother’s wrath and simply closed the sliding glass door and locked it.  Margaret shook the door handle, but the door wouldn’t open.  She pounded on the glass demanding Antissa open the door, but Antissa just turned and walked away holding Mr. Wuggles in her arms.

Margaret came around to the front of the house, thankfully they hid a spare key behind the gutter drain next to the garage.

She burst in to the front door and stomped down the hall towards Antissa’s room, but she was standing in the hallway outside her door.

“I don’t know what you are thinking, but you are in big trouble!”  Margaret reached for her daughter’s arm.

Antissa stood defiantly, staring down her mother.

Margaret felt her feet pull out from under her and she landed with a thud on the hallway carpet.  She grasped for air after having the wind knocked out of her.  Margaret found herself face to face with Mr. Wuggles.  It’s cold black eyes staring back into hers.  She tried to scramble away, but found she wasn’t able to get her body to cooperate.

“Mr. Wuggles says I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”  Antissa stared down at her mother with contempt. 

“I think it is time for Mr. Wuggles to go.”  Mrs. Tilly managed to catch her breath long enough to speak.  

Antissa walked over and picked up her bear and walked back to her room, closing the door behind her.

Margaret thought she must have tripped on the carpet, but something was wrong with her daughter and with that damn bear.  She thought it was actually staring at her.  Jim would be home in a few hours.  She needed a break, he could deal with the bear and next week Antissa was going to a therapist whether Jim agreed or not.

Saturday came and Antissa Tilly sat in one of her little pink chairs in her bedroom.  The chair sat around a little white table complete with a large pink daisy design on the top and pink legs to match the chairs color.  Antissa’s entire room fit the same color scheme including a pink comforter on her bed, a white rug on the floor light pink paint on the walls and white curtains framing the window.  Antissa loved her room and the fact that she was allowed to pick her own colors.   

“Would anyone like some tea?” Antissa beckoned while holding a plastic teapot in the air. 

Mr. Wuggles, her favorite friend, was seated in the chair to her left with his furry teddy bear face looking towards her. 

“Oh Mr. Wuggles, of course you can have seconds, but I do need to make sure all of our guests have some as well.”  Antissa looked around the table to the other two seats. 

“Would either of you like tea?” Her tiny blonde eyebrows rose with anticipation as the corners of her mouth curled up in to a smile.  Her other two guests did not reply.  They stared back at her with their vacant eyes.

“Oh well, more for me and Mr. Wuggles.”  She shrugged and began humming as she placed the tea pot on the white table. 

“Oh!” Antissa squealed with excitement as she noticed the plate of lady finger cookies her mother brought her earlier.  Antissa picked one up with her dainty fingers and took a nibble, of course she held her pinky out the whole time, because that was the fancy thing to do.

“Mr. Wuggles can have a cookie, but none for you two.” She scolded.  “If you don’t drink my tea then you can’t eat my cookies.”

Antissa stood up and brushed the crumbs off her white sundress.  Tiny pieces of cookie collected on the yellow flowers and along the lacy hem; it would not do for a hostess to be covered in crumbs, she thought.

“Mommy, can I please have some more grape juice for my tea pot?” She called in to the hall.

“I am sorry sweetheart, but I think we are out.  I will run to the store and pick some up, would you like some more cookies while I am out?” Antissa heard her mother’s voice echoing from down the hallway.

Antissa took a deep breath and walked towards her bedroom door; her gaze dropped down at the floor and her smile faded.  She twisted her big toe in the plush rug while she thought. 

“Mommy, can you come to my room please?” 

“Sweetheart, Mommy is in the middle of something.” 

“Mommy, I said please.” Antissa interrupted impatiently.

A few moments later Margaret appeared in Antissa’s door way.  Mrs. Tilly’s long narrow face unsuccessfully tried to shroud the combination of sadness and fear she was feeling. 

“Yes dear?” Margaret spoke in a soft voice.

“Mommy, I want more grape juice. “

“I told you we are out of grape juice.  The store is right down the road; I can get some for you?”  A dreadful tone overcame her voice.  She feared there was no hope of escaping this nightmare.  Did she sound too eager?  Does Antissa suspect she would try to run away again?  If she had a chance she would just get into the car and drive.  It didn’t matter where she would go as long as it was far from the reach of what was once her little girl. 

“No, I don’t want you to go.”  Antissa looked at her mother with a stern expression, pressing the edges of her mouth tightly. 

“Last time you tried to run away and I had to have Mr. Wuggles bring you back.”

Antissa walked back to her table and sat down in her chair.

“I would like more juice now, please.”  Antissa coldly stared at her mother.

“If I can’t go buy you more juice, then I can’t give you any.”  The woman began to fidget in the doorway trying to act calm, but her shaking hands betrayed her.  She crossed her arms trying to hide her fear.

“I said please, you have to give it to me!”  Antissa demanded.

Antissa’s mother winced, taking a step backwards, her hands violently shaking as she raised them defensively.  She rubbed a bandage on her right forearm and stared intently at the teddy bear seated next to her young daughter.  She tried not to look at the bodies of the two policemen seated at Antissa’s table.  Their bodies forced into awkward positions to fit in the child sized chairs.  Each policeman still had their handgun and radio on their belt, but what would Margaret do if she got her hands on one?  She never touched a gun in her life and would she be able to actually pull the trigger?  All of that was beside the point, it was in the room with Antissa.  It wouldn’t let her get anywhere near Antissa or the policemen, of that she was sure.   

Margaret wasn’t sure what was going on in her house, but she knew when it started.  Antissa changed the moment that thing came into her life.  It wasn’t a teddy bear, not underneath.  Mrs. Tilly swore she could see it’s chest rising and falling ever so slightly like it was breathing. Yesterday at the park, she swore she saw it turn its head and look at the boy crying on the ground.  At the time she was sure it was a trick of the sun, but after what she had seen, she knows that thing is alive. 

Jim, poor Jim. He tried taking away Mr. Wuggles after Antissa told him she didn’t have to listen to him anymore.  Antissa became angry and that was when the hellish beast showed itself.  After what that creature did to her husband, Margaret had to call the police.  But what in the world would she tell them?  A teddy bear mutated into a monster and broke her husband’s neck and crammed him in her daughter’s closet?  She didn’t know what to say as she dialed 911, so she just asked them to come.  When the officers arrived at the house, they didn’t stand a chance.  Mr. Wuggles grabbed one of the policemen and smashed him in to the other until both lay motionless.  That was before Antissa invited the dead officers to sit with them for tea.

Margaret was brought back from her thoughts by Antissa’s foreboding tone.   

“Daddy made me mad when he tried to take Mr. Wuggles away and Mr. Wuggles didn’t like that.  You don’t want to see Mr. Wuggles mad at you, do you Mommy?” Antissa looked over at her teddy bear still sitting silently in the chair.

“I think he is really thirsty.”  Antissa reached for another lady finger and started nibbling. 

“Mmmm.  These sure are good cookies.”

“I will see what I can find in the kitchen.  Maybe there is some concentrate in the freezer.”  Antissa’s mom nervously rushed down the hall.  How in the world is she going to make grape juice out of thin air?  Lord knows she didn’t want to upset Antissa again.  She tried to escape earlier as she called the police, but that thing tracked her down and dragged her back home. 

She couldn’t stay in the house any longer.  Margaret decided when she reached the kitchen she would sneak out the sliding glass door to the backyard and go to the Miller’s house next door. 

Her feet hit the linoleum tile of the kitchen and she froze.  A cold chill rushed through her spine and her feet skidded to a halt.  The bear sat facing her, seated at the dining room table. Cold black plastic eyes stared her down.  It didn’t move, but she still felt the rage.

“Mommy.” Antissa’s voice crept from behind her.

“Mr. Wuggles says you are being bad.” Antissa raised her eyebrows and smirked at her mother.  “He says you should be punished.”

Margaret walked over to the refrigerator keeping one eye on the devil bear.  She opened the door and showed Antissa inside.

“Do you see?  We are all out of juice and soda.  I do have milk, do you want some milk?  Milk goes well with cookies.”

Something flew by her head and smashed against the wall sending shards of plastic scattering around the kitchen floor.  What is left of her cellphone lay in pieces.  She looked at the direction the phone came flying from and Mr. Wuggles again stared back at her coldly.  She lost her phone when she tried to escape, disconnecting her call with the 911 operator.

“Not milk, juice!” Antissa shouted with anger swelling up in her face.

Margaret didn’t know what to do.  Her sweet four-year-old had been changed by the presence of this demon that served at her beckon call.  Surely the police will send more officers after they realize the two that came to the house are not responding.  They have to be coming; if she couldn’t get away, maybe she could hold out for them.

“You’re right Mr. Wuggles.  She isn’t being nice.”

Margaret could hear heavy breathing from the far end of the room.  The small chest of the teddy bear heaved in and out.  She couldn’t help but stare as the small bear rose to its feet and grew.  Brown fibrous fur raised jagged and wild on its back as bladed teeth slashed out from the newly formed snarling mouth.  Margaret gasped in fear as sickled claws stretched out from the now massive hands.  Mr. Wuggles stood eight feet tall with the same dead black eyed stare under a wrinkled forehead.

“OK, Mr. Wuggles.  You are right” Antissa sighed.  “It’s time we found a new mommy.”

Margaret’s screams echoed through the cul-de-sac.

A black sedan pulled up in front of the Tilly house.  A man in a dark blue suit and matching Fedora stepped out from the driver’s door and stood on the sidewalk.

Antissa came out of the front door and started walking towards the car, Mr. Wuggles firmly tucked in her arms. 

“Is this your friend Mr. Wuggles?”  Antissa inquired. 

“Yes, my dear.  Mr. Wuggles has told me all about you and all of the wonderful things you have done together.”  Mr. Stix opened the passenger side door and motioned for Antissa to enter.  “I think we will all be the best of friends.”  His smile stretched from ear to ear in a devious grin.

“Yes, Mr. Wuggles, he does seem like a nice man.”  Antissa got in the back seat and buckled the seatbelt herself.

Before closing the door, Mr. Stix leaned in.  “Say, why don’t we pay a visit to the boy from the park before we find you that new mommy and daddy?  I am sure Mr. Wuggles would love to play with him again.”  Mr. Stix widened his grin revealing a toothy smirk.

Antissa grinned maliciously at Mr. Wuggles and nodded to Mr. Stix.

“You see; we are already the best of pals.”  With that he closed the door.