This is a fanfiction depicting the child that would soon possess cardboard friend, any information in this article is not real unless said so by the venturiantale team. Art credit goes to SylarGrimm on DeviantArt. WARNING: This story is very dark and may be disturbing to some readers. Continue with caution.
James Bumm walked home one day, a 12 pack of beer bottles in hand since he had ran out. As the rain drizzled on his beanie, he wondered why his wife let him keep countess bottles rolling around the floor in practically every room of the house. He chuckled to himself thinking “I thought I was lucky enough to marry a cheerleader”. James used his free left hand to pull his collar closer to his neck, blocking the wind, when he heard some sniffling in the alley to his right. He turned to look and he saw a child, no more than the age of three, silently crying in a cardboard box. He wore a tattered, deep green jacket and had a newspaper on his head to block the rain. He slowly walked to the child, now more concerned for him than getting home on time, and crouched down to see him.
“Hello.” He said unsurely. The child clutched the newspaper tighter to hide his face.
“No, no, you don’t need to be afraid. My name’s James, you can call me Jimmy If you want.” He said, trying to calm him down. The child peeked out from under the paper and whimpered,
“My mama said not to talk to people I don't know.”
“Well where is your mama now?” James asked. The child sniffed and said,
“I don't know, last week we went to the store to buy food and I looked at a magazine for a bit, then I couldn’t find her…” James felt like he had been punched in the heart, a child on his own for a week! Where in the world was his mother, how had he even lasted this long?
“Well, you have to be cold! Here…” he offered his jacket to the child. “It’s all your’s.” The child shrunk away again. “Go on, you need it more than me.” He assured. The child hesitantly took the jacket, he tried to put it on but only achieved so much because the jacket was about the same size of his whole body, his arms disappeared in the oversized sleeves.
“There should be a granola bar in the left pocket.” James added. The child searched the pocket and pulled out the snack and quickly took a bite out of it, smiling like he hadn’t eaten in days.
“Thank you Jimmy,” He mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’ll never forget you.”
“By the way, what’s your name?” James asked, but the child had already fallen asleep. Upon further inspection, his chest wasn’t moving. James tried shaking him awake, but soon gave up. “There’s only so much a child can handle…” He reasoned. Not knowing what else to do, he covered the child’s head with the newspaper, stood up, and dialed 911 on his phone. Little did james know that the spirit of the child truly never forgot him. He moved on to become the imaginary friend of Gregory Casket, a boy who, in the face of his future, could use a friend.