School lies, you know? They tell you they want you to make something of yourself. To be smart. Do you know what I got for being smart?

A relief found only in solitude, because everyone else picked on the smallest, smartest kid of them all.

"But, Mommy, I'm scared," Andy was sniffing for the fifth or sixth time. He clutched Chucky closer to him, as if feeling the doll pressed against him made things better. Karen sighed and rubbed her son's shoulders comfortingly. "Andy, honey, you are going to love school. There're lots of kids your age to play with." Her words were to no avail, however; Andy shook nervously as the bus drove up. "I don't want to go," he said softly. The brakes on the bus squeaked at high volumes and made even Karen jump in surprise. Andy grip tightened, and his heart pounded against the doll's back. He gave one last pleading look at his mother. "Go, Andy," she said with a firmer tone in her voice. She gave Andy a gentle but commanding shove towards the bus' opening doors.

The loud sounds of children overwhelmed seven year old Andy. He had never been in such an environment. He had been home alone until now, and the smells and vibrant life startled him. In fact, it frightened him. It seemed to take every ounce of courage he could muster to throw himself into an empty seat and huddle in near the window with his backpack covering him. "Chucky?" he whispered. "I don't want to go to school. I'm scared stiff, I am." His doll looked up at him apprehensively. "What, of school?" he replied with disbelief. "Isn't that the 'great learning place' or whatever they call it? Don't you like that sort of gay stuff?"

Andy shook his head. "I don't mind the learning," he admitted. "It's the other kids I'm scared of. What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm weird, or dumb?" Chucky made a guttural noise in his throat and began to mutter something about a kid with strange fears. "You don't have to worry about that, kid," he replied. "You'll be perfectly fine." Andy pulled Chucky close to him worriedly. "That's what Mommy says," he said softly. "But…but still…what if she's wrong? What if you're wrong? What if…?" Andy was cut off when his doll grabbed his collar impatiently. "You listen to me, kid," he half-snarled. "You go in with an attitude like that, you'll never make any friends, you hear? You'll be the loneliest piece of crap the world has ever known…"

He would have gone on, with much more crude things to say, had he not noticed that Andy had turned away from him and held onto his backpack instead. Chucky was almost sure he was crying. His mouth dropped open. He shouldn't have been so harsh! Andy was a kid, after all. "Hey, kid," he said, gently nudging the boy's arm. Andy wiped his nose carelessly with his sleeve. "It's okay, Chucky. You're right. I'm over-acting, like Mommy would say," he sniffled. Chucky tried to turn Andy back to him, but the boy obviously refused to confide in him anymore at this point. "Andy," he said softly. "Listen. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that… fu… crap, I just…" he sighed. Words like these hadn't come out since…

"I just think you're a great kid, Andy," he said finally. The boy turned and looked at him hopefully. "You mean it?" he asked cautiously. His doll looked at him with what would seem like a sheepish expression. "Yah," he murmured quietly. "I think it would be crazy if anybody didn't like you…" Andy smiled and hugged him tightly. "You're the best-est friend I ever had, Chucky," he said gleefully. "Yah, yah, I get it, kid, now get off me," Chucky responded, though not too unfriendly-like. "You know I hate that huggy-kissy kind of shit."

The bus took a turn to the left then, and passed what seemed like an old abandoned house. Chucky stared at it in disbelief. "That traitor," he muttered angrily to himself. "He's on my hit-list." Andy looked at him. "What?" he asked. Chucky shook his head and looked out the window. "Nothing," he replied. "Just thinking out loud…"

***

God, do I hate having to say those kinds of things. But I need the kid on my side. Unfortunately, (as I discovered the night I tried to kill that ginger, Meggie or Maggot or whatever) in this new body, I can't really walk very well on my own. I need some sort of transportation.

Plus, I kind of owe it to him. I mean, who am I to really judge his fears of school? I had those same kinds of worries when I was his age. I don't have the heart to crush him.

But that house, and the one who lives in it, is going down. He ruined my life forever.

We'll see who's crying now, Eddie Caputo…

***

The boy in the corner looked interesting. At least that's what Krista de Silva thought. He was in first grade, and he still had a doll, just like her. Her mother had always told her that no one her age played with rag dolls like she did. "But there's always Quanisha, Mama," she would whine. For some reason, Quanisha didn't count.

She sighed and tightened the laces on her combat boots before deciding to go talk to the new kid. He could be nice, right? He had a doll. Just like her. That settled it. Besides, Quanisha wasn't anywhere, so she could make that her excuse for talking to him. She wasn't flirting or anything like that. With this in mind, she plucked up her courage and skipped over to where the new boy was (which was kind of hard to do in her boots).

He jumped a bit when she stepped in front of her. "Hey, I'm Krista!" she said, as friendly as possible. He smiled shyly back at he. "Hey," he said kind of soft. She still didn't know his name. Krista took a step closer to him. "Umm, what's your name?" she pressed. He held his doll closer to him before quietly responding, "Andy. My name's Andy." Geez, but that doll was just as big as them, she thought. But it looked cool. "Isn't that one of those new Good Guys dolls?" she asked curiously. He nodded in confirmation. She smiled and pulled out her doll. "This is Lisa," she said. The boy Andy stared at the roughed-up rag doll with wide eyes. "We've been through a lot, haven't we Lisa?" She made her doll nod, and Andy laughed.

Well, that was a good sign, right?

"You're going to like our teacher," she said. "I met her last week at Wal-Mart. Her name's Ms. Kettlewell." He only nodded again. Was this boy quiet or what? But she liked him. Something about him she liked, and she wanted to be his friend. It was going to happen. The bell rang, which permanently ended their conversation, but she knew they would have more chances. Then they would be best friends, right? She sure hoped so.

Andy was swinging his feet nervously under his desk. He'd never been in school before. The last time he saw kids his age he was at a park, when his dad was still alive. He gulped back the lump in his throat and tried not to think of Daddy. Instead he focused his thoughts on Chucky. He was very quiet, which surprised Andy. Usually the doll had a mouthful to say. He leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear. "I'm still scared, Chucky," he said. He peeked over and noticed the girl looking at him. Chucky didn't move, but he responded with a hissy, "You'll be fine, Andy. Look, I think that girl likes you, okay? Happy?" Andy smiled and reclined against the back of his chair. He was happy. Maybe he could make a friend his age.

A young, pretty woman strode briskly in right after the bell rang and looked at her class sheepishly. "Hello, class," she said brightly. "I'm Ms. Kettlewell. Sorry that you had to see me run in late…" Just as she said this, the door slammed open, and in rushed a ball of energy in the form of a little black girl holding a Barbie doll, who looked almost like her. "Missus K!" she shouted breathlessly. Ms. Kettlewell looked down at the girl with an expression of surprise. "Well, well. Ms. Tyler," she said. "I'm sorry I'm late, Missus K!" the girl burst out, interrupting her teacher. "But I missed my bus, and…." She paused to get a breath. Ms. Kettlewell smiled. "I was just going to say, Quanisha, that you and I are both having a little trouble today. Don't worry, I won't be penalizing you for your tardiness this time."

Quanisha sighed. "Oh, thank you, Missus K!" she said. She flopped into her chair next to Krista in relief, but carefully set her Barbie on the desk. Krista leaned over and whispered something to her, and they both looked over at the boy with doll his size. "Oh!" Quanisha's mouth took the shape of the sound she made. "He's the new kid!" She jumped out of her chair again and ran over to where Andy was, startling him. "You're the new kid, aren't you?" she said. Andy nodded. He didn't know what to make of this one. She was bouncier and a bit scary, and…. wait, was she touching his hair…? "I love me some white people hair," she said. "My baby brother, Ronald, he's got hair too, but it ain't half as nice as yours." Andy nodded again, barely whispering out something like a "Thanks."

"Alright, Quanisha, don't scare the new student," Ms. Kettlewell said cheerily. "How about you sit down now and we can get our work done, okay?" Quanisha nodded, but gave Andy one last look-over before sitting down next to Kristin and whispering quite audibly, "He's a hunky one, ain't he?" Andy didn't know what hunky meant, but the girls' stares and giggles and Chucky's snort made him blush scarlet.

***

You think you're so nice, huh? Damn teacher. You're all the same. Lying through your teeth, about love and fairness; you're just as bad as the other bullies in the school.

You're a bitch, you know that? I know that. I know everything…

Andy sighed. He had survived, and it wasn't all so bad. Kristin and Quanisha had tried to get him to play on the playground with them during recess, and even when he said no, they didn't seem to mind. They didn't point and laugh, or say mean things. Mommy and Chucky were right. School was kind of nice. Maybe he would play with the girls tomorrow. He adjusted Chucky in his arms as he waddled towards the bus. He would have to tell his mother about today. He would also have to ask what hunky meant.

Just as he neared the bus line, Chucky elbowed him. "Don't ride the bus, kid," he said suddenly. "Why?" Andy asked a bit impatiently. "Chucky, how else am I supposed to get home?" Chucky growled. "You got legs, don't you?" he snapped. "C'mon, I got things I need to do." At Andy's hesitance, he went on a bit rougher. "Let's go, kid!" Andy huffed angrily and turned towards the front of the school. "Fine, fine. I got it, Chucky," he muttered. "You don't have to be so bossy about it…" Geez, Chucky had to be such a grouch sometimes.

It felt like hours before they finally reached some dumpy house in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. Andy rolled his eyes a bit as he listened to Chucky complain about how slow he was, and couldn't he walk faster? He heard a falling sound, and turned his head just in time to see that detective guy he saw at the store the other day. What was he doing here? Oh well. Chucky was saying something. "What?" he asked. Chucky wiggled around in his arms so he could face him. "Were you even listening to me? God, Andy, are you…hey, what are you…?" Chucky asked in confusion as Andy set him down on the dirt. "I gotta go potty, Chucky," he said as sternly as he could. "You… you what? I don't care, Andy. Pick me up, now," he griped. Andy shook his head and walked away, looking for a place to relieve himself and ignoring Chucky's profanity. He had legs too. If Chucky wanted to go play in the house so bad, he could walk there himself.

He had just finished up when he heard the loud sound of the house exploding. "Chucky?" he called. Worry pricked at him. Did Chucky get hurt in the house? He ran towards the flying debris, calling for his doll. "Chucky? Chucky! Where are you? Are you okay? Chucky!"

***

You deserve this, you bastard. This is what you get for what you did to me. I am not a toy. You can't just sell me away.

My stomach hurts. Like something is squeezing it tight. I hurt everywhere…someone's calling my name… the kid?

Andy… come find me…

Mike Norris and Maggie were just behind an old abandoned factory when they saw the house go up into the sky. "Omigod!" Maggie shouted. "Andy!" Mike was searching the yard with his eyes frantically. "He's over there," he said. They could barely see the shape of the boy, who was picking up his doll with extreme care. Maggie rushed forward to try to get the boy, but Mike held her back. "Wait!" he said. Maggie looked at him in confusion. "If he's alright, we can't let him know we were following him. If he tells his mother… do you want Karen involved in this?" She could nothing but shake her head. She really didn't want Karen to know she'd let that monster in her house.

***

Someone's holding me, I think. I can feel the bouncing. Andy? Right. He came looking for me.

He came looking for me...?