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His Name was Mark and He was a Toymaker

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There was man who lived next door to me in the little green house. His name was Mark. Mark was a toymaker. He had skinny black hair that spiked in all directions. He had stormy blue eyes that opened to a world of wonder. He had pale white skin that, sometimes, I think became see-through in the sunlight. Mark made toys for all the little children. We all adored him so much because he saved the best toys for us. Once he gave me a porcelain doll. She had mint green eyes and yellow hair that went all the way down to her hips. She had skin that looked like Mark’s. She was beautiful and reminded me of Mark every time I played with her. Once I told Mark that he should marry her. They would be a perfect couple. In response, he only smiled showing off his perfectly white teeth. His sister came to visit that day; she looked just like him except she was a girl. Her name was Melissa. She was really sweet and whenever I had gone over to her house, she would give me candy. Every one in the neighborhood loved them. My father told me that I should work hard and become smart like them. That day I decided that I would be a toymaker; I would grow-up and be exactly like Mark and Melissa.


One day something bad happened. The big, scary man who owns all the houses in the neighborhood came to visit. My mother told me that he had only come to make sure that all the little kids were behaving properly, but I knew better. This big, scary man did not like Mark. He had always wanted Mark to go away, but he needed the money Mark had given him. Even though I had liked Mark, I soon came to know that other people hated him. Sometimes, I saw how much everyone else hated Mark. The thing is, they did not hate him. They were just afraid of him. The brown people that would drive by would throw rocks at his house, but whenever he came outside, they would run away. I felt bad for Mark. The rocks those people threw were huge, gray rocks. They were so big that they would completely shatter the window. I could see all this from my window; my mother would not let me go help Mark.


So the day the big, scary man came, I was ready to watch everything from my window. The big, scary man had brown skin too. He had a gray, rough beard that clung to his face. He had cruel black eyes. I saw him looking at me once; I had a nightmare that night and slept in the bed with my mom. From the window, I saw him talking to Mark. His hands were shaking and his lips were quivering. He was scared of Mark too, I could tell. Mark was only a toymaker. As the big man spoke with Mark, his hands started shaking more. Mark was calm though, but I saw a true storm brewing behind his blue eyes. Why were people so scared of Mark? I did not understand. Then, something ominous happened. The big man’s hands shook around more and his arms were flailing around. He took something out of his pocket. It was a black, shiny object. My mother, who was watching with me, pulled me away. She placed her hands over my eyes, but not over my ears. I heard a big boom that shook all the glass in the house. My mother told me Mark had to go away and he would not be back for a long time. Tears welled up in my eyes. Why was everyone so scared of him? His name was Mark and he was only a toymaker.





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