Jack. A couple inches added to a foot tall. He has the approximate weight of toddler girl. With little protection from the cold, his tan coat is so short that it sticks to his skin like glue, fixed and set all year round. His feet, however, remain white which often seem like he has socks on from afar. According to the internet, his kind comes from Central Africa. Found in ancient Egyptian tombs, his kind has been around for quite some time. If you look at Jack’s face, he has a severe case of wrinkles that never go away. The folds sit right between his coffee-bean-like eyes. Jack’s eyes are a rich dark brown with an odd shine.
Jack isn’t skilled at listening or following instructions. Not that he is inattentive, he is quite alert actually. But he just doesn’t really understand what to do unless it becomes a routine. Knowing about his pitiful past though, people understand and sympathize. Less than six months ago, he rested soundly and peacefully when a sudden bang shook the serenity. Jerking awake, Jack’s world snapped slowly into focus. Down the stairs, a family member, a best friend laid in his own assumed serenity. Looking down into the liquid, Jack saw a reflection of himself. Like a photograph or scene from a movie, some might think it was the artist’s intention for a red hued filter. But, this reflection didn’t have a filter. With the return of the remaining family member, he didn’t say a word. Jack fixed his eyes on her eyes. He looked away and nodded towards the door to go down with a whimper that even surprised himself. Thus, Jack and the remaining family member moved out of the house as fast as the bang.
Arms and legs on the table gorging on meat, when he isn’t supposed to be eating or so being improper, Jack is, without realizing, forgiven. Jack plays with a guest. He starts jumping and rips apart the guest’s shirt. The guest is aware of Jack’s history and gives in. Three holes that weren’t on the shirt display themselves at the close to the hem. Maybe he is angry with me the guest thinks. I want him to stop, but I can’t push him down. Finally, a voice reports the situation, and the remaining family member blocks Jack. Jack cannot determine when it is play time. He thinks play time is all the time. Apologies are glossed onto the guest. A shirt replacement is promised, but the guest just repeats “no, it’s okay”. Once again, Jack is pardoned. Unaware of his destruction, he leaves as if nothing occurred.