My Son Found a One-Eyed Teddy Bear in the Dirt – That Night, It Whispered His Name and Begged, ‘Help Me’

Then a voice, tiny and trembling, seeped through the fabric.

My blood turned to ice.

I stared at the bear, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

That wasn’t a song, a prerecorded giggle, or some creepy toy malfunction.

That was a human voice.

A child’s voice.

And they had said my son’s name out loud.

I looked at Mark.

He was still asleep, miraculously.

Then I grabbed the bear as gently as I could, sliding it from Mark’s grip without waking him.

I backed out of the room, easing the door almost closed.

My mind was racing through terrible possibilities.

Was this some kind of prank? A surveillance device?

Was someone watching us?

I carried the bear down the hall like it might explode.

In the kitchen, I set it down on the table under the bright overhead light and ripped open the seam I’d so carefully closed a few hours earlier.

Stuffing spilled out onto the table. I reached inside and felt something hard.

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