You've Got A Friend In Me

Woody was old and that was one of the things Andy loved most about him. His earliest memory was of his mom pulling out the doll and filling Andy's desperate hands with his weight. His big head rested in the palms of his hands and his limp fabric body draped gently across his knees. From that day on, they had been inseparable. Andy's bedroom walls were a shrine to the cowboys aesthetic. The wallpaper was patterned with horseshoes, a brown felt cowboy hat hung gently over the bedpost, and Woody slept right beside Andy's cheek every night on a stitched patch work quilt. Life was good, in fact, Woody didn't think it could get any better.

But everything changed on Andy's birthday. The birthday gift had been sitting on the kitchen counter for only three days before, tempting Andy with it's glossy silver paper. He had carried Woody by one limp arm into the kitchen every day and peered his eyeballs over the counter, wondering what could be inside the shiny new package.

"It has to be a horse for Woody!" Andy smiled to his mom, "Or wait, maybe it's boots in my size!"

"You'll just have to wait and see!" Mom smiled.

Today was the day, and Andy was tearing the silver paper off in a hurry. Woody was laying on the carpet next to him while shimmering silver paper dropped in tattered remains onto the floor. Andy pulled out a red box and whooped with delight.

"Oh, no way, Mom!" He laughed, "A Buzz Lightyear?! Wow!" Woody stared blankly through unmoving porcelain eyes at the shiny new toy in Andy's hands. Buzz was sleek. He was green and white with a hard plastic body that wasn't hanging on by a few loose strings. Andy hugged him tightly in his arms and ran quickly up the stairs to his bedroom, leaving Woody in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Within a week, the patchwork quilt Woody had slept with Andy on every night for as long as he could remember was folded away into the closet and replaced with polyester sheets printed with stars and galaxy clusters. The horseshoe wallpaper was now a mural of planets and spaceships and the cowboy hat that once graced Andy's bed post had been smashed inside the toy bin and replaced with an astronauts helmet. Woody watched it all happen while laying on his side from the top of Andy's dresser with his glossy eyes blank, and his sculpted mouth stuck in a permanent smile.

That night, while Andy snored quietly beneath his new glow in the dark star stickers, Woody crept over to his bed.

Buzz never had a chance to make a sound. Woody jammed a porcelain thumb straight into the astronaut's plastic eye socket, twisting until the clear dome cracked with the sound of breaking ice. Woody worked quickly, his old hands possessing an unnatural strength. He grabbed Buzz's right arm, planted a boot against the space ranger's chest, and pulled until the wiring inside screeched.

Wires spilled out like entrails and glistened in the moonlight. Woody gutted the toy, making sure Buzz could never be fixed. He shredded his internal battery pack, smiling while battery acid leaked and hissed gently as it ate through the new quilts fibers. When Buzz was nothing more than the shell of splintered plastic, Woody stuffed the broken pieces into the bottom drawer of Molly's dresser, right beneath her crib.

"I can't find Buzz, Mom!" Andy shouted out in frustration, "He was right here last night!"

He checked under his bed, his hand brushing against Woody, who sat upright against the baseboard, staring ahead with his glass eyes. Andy hesitated. A strange, cold shiver raced up his spine as his fingers touched the doll's boots. A sudden, knot formed in his stomach that told him to pull his hand back. He didn't know why. It was just Woody.

He jumped as his mother stepped into the doorway, drying her wet hands on a dish towel. The smell of dish soap and bleach followed her into the room. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. then down at the mess of clothes Andy had strewn around in search of his new favorite toy.

"Andy, I'm sorry." she said, "But we have to leave now if we're gonna make it to Pizza Planet before the dinner rush,"

"But Mom, I need him!" whined Andy, kicking a laundry basket out of the way. "He's my space ranger! What kinda kid goes to Pizza Planet without his space ranger?"

"Just grab Woody for now. We don't have time to tear your room apart." Mom said.

"Mom!" Andy whined for a second time, "I can't take a cowboy to Pizza Planet!"

"We'll search every inch of this room when we get back." Mom said. "I promise."

Andy looked at the crumpled cowboy in his hands. A cold, prickling sensation ran up his forearm, making the hair on his arms stand straight up. His stomach felt like a hard ball of nerves. He stared into Woody's face and those brown eyes stared straight through him.

"Andy." his mother said, "Come on. Let's go."

"I bet Molly stole him." sighed Andy. He dropped Woody to his side so the doll dangled by his leg before dropping him completely to the floor and pulling the door shut.

Though Mom had kept her promise and tried to help Andy find his toy in the mess he called a room, they didn't find Buzz when they got home. It wasn't until three days later when Mom was digging through Molly's drawer for a fresh pair of socks when her fingers hit something sharp. She pulled out a tiny cracked helmet dome along with severed wires and the hollow torso of whatever remained of Buzz Lightyear.

"Andy!" her voice echoed down the hall. "What have you done to your sisters drawer?"

Andy rushed in, his face going pale when he saw the mess spread across the carpet. "I didn't do that! I swear!"

"This toy costs eighty dollars!" she snapped, "If you didn't want it, you shouldn't have asked for it!"

"I didn't do it, Mom!" Andy cried, his chest heaving. "Molly must have..."

"Molly can't even open those drawers, Andy."

"Mom!" Andy was in full blown tears now and struggling to catch his breath. "I would... never... do that.. to Buzz!"

Each word was punctuated with a large sobbing gasp of breath.

Mom reached out and hugged Andy. "Calm down." She rubbed one hand on his back. "We'll get you another one. I don't know what happened, but please... don't let it happen again."

She calmed her son down and they grabbed Molly to head to the toy store. The front door closed below and a few moments later, the garage door squealed on its tracks followed by the sound of the station wagon backing down the driveway.

The house was completely quiet.

Mr. Potato Head was the first to break that silence. He detached his white arm and shoved a loose plastic ear back into its side socket.

"You did it, didn't you?" Potato head's voice was low and raspy with age. "You tore him apart."

Woody didn't move from where Andy had dropped him on the bed. He laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"We heard it all, Woody," Slinky said, emerging from under the bed frame, his metal clinking softly as he walked. "Rex found his arm yesterday. Did you break him, Woody?"

"Andy is so upset!" Rex whimpered. "His mom was screaming at him. Why would you do that?"

Woody finally sat up. The cloth joints of his legs bent and dangled over the side of the bed before he dropped down to the floor with a soft thud.

"Guys." He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "I had to."

"You had to?" Potato Head took two steps forward, his plastic brow furrowing. "He was one of us!"

"No!" Woody shouted. "He was dangerous!" He took a slow step toward them, his tiny felt hat tilting forward, casting a shadow over his eyes. "You didn't see what he was doing. He kept talking about space... about lasers. He thought he was real and he was going to hurt Andy."

"It was only a light on his arm, Woody!" Rex cried out.

"We got into a fight," Woody continued, ignoring rex completely. "Buzz came at me. He tried to take my place. He tried to take over the room. I was just protecting Andy... and us! I was keeping us all safe from whatever that thing was. I did it for us all."

"You're lying!" Potato Head spat, pointing a finger at Woody's chest. "You were jealous because Andy didn't like cowboys anymore."

Woody stared at him. His smile stayed completely fixed, but his arms hung straight down at his sides, completely still. The toys lined up in a plastic line behind Mr. Potato Head, who had raised one tiny plastic fist. That's when Woody snapped.

He moved with speed none of the toys had ever seen. He caved in Potato Head's hollow head with the heavy base of Andy's lamp, sending plastic body parts scattering across the floor. He grabbed Slinky's metal spine and pulled, unraveling the spring inch by inch until the wire finally snapped and whipped back to slice straight through Rex's hollow green chest. Rex slumped against the nightstand, his painted yellow eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Toy by toy, Woody tore through everyone. Change went flying as he smashed Hamm and Shark would never squeak again after Woody tore his squeaker loose with his bare hands and tossed it out the window. The lights behind their eyes went out one by one and Woody stood in the middle of a graveyard full of twisted metal, broken plastic pieces, and cotton stuffing. He picked the broken shells up and tossed them into the toy box and climbed back up onto Andy's bed where he belonged.

The family got home late that night, they'd decided to make a whole day out of such a tragic event and when they got home, they only had time for showers and brushing teeth before Mom called out for bedtime. Andy hadn't even got a chance to open his new Buzz Lightyear yet. The new Buzz sat on Andy's desk that night, still wrapped in his packaging.

Andy didn't sleep good at all. He woke up at around three in the morning to the sound of plastic grinding against wood. The bedroom was dead silent except for the air conditioning vent.

Something heavy and wet had suddenly landed against his chest. He tried to move his arms, but he couldn't. He looked up. The pull string from his bed side lamp, braided tightly with Slinky's wire was wrapped around his wrists, biting deep into his skin drawing up red droplets of blood.

He opened his mouth to scream, but a wad of stuffing was shoved deep down in his throat. Woody was perched on Andy's chest. The cowboys head was tilted at a sharp ninety degree angle. He sat staring at Andy, his unusually heavy weight almost pressing the wind out of Andy's lungs, staring into his eyes with a fixed, unblinking glare.

Woody stood up and leapt off of the bed. Andy's eyes followed as he made his way to the desk and climbed on top of it, standing right next to the new box. He watched his beloved cowboy doll lift his heavy desk lamp with both hands. Woody raised the brass base high above his head and brought it down hard on the plastic packaging.

A loud crack echoed through the bedroom. The clear plastic shell on the outside of the box shattered into shards before Andy's eyes. He opened his mouth to cry out for his mom again, but the fluff was trapping in the sound.

Woody reached into the broken box and pulled the new Buzz out by his neck. He twisted over and over and Andy watched in horror as plastic joints were torn apart. Woody didn't stop. He slammed the astronaut's head against the edge of the wooden desk until the faceplate crushed inward. Broken pieces fell to the floor with dull thuds. Woody turned his head slowly. His old neck clicked three times as it rotated towards the bed.

Woody climbed off the desk. His fabric legs hit the floor with barely any sound. He walked slowly back towards the bed, dragging his pull string behind him. Andy squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a weight press down on the edge of his mattress and the blanket shifted slightly as Woody crawled up over his knees. He opened his eyes.

Woody was sitting directly on his chest. His face was inches away from Andy's own. Woody reached down with one hand and pressed a single finger against Andy's lips, forcing them shut. With his other hand, Woody pointed toward the open bedroom door. Andy's eyes followed the finger, watering from fear and the choking gag in his mouth.

The hallway light was off, but the glow from the bathroom window illuminated the floor just outside Andy's room. He could hear Molly crying softly from her own bedroom.

His mother would never be able to check on her. Andy could see her lying in the doorway. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly with thick yarn from the playroom craft box pulled from the garage. She wasn't moving and a dark pool was spreading slowly across the floor, soaking into the hall rug.

Woody tilted his head back towards Andy with a single soft click. He leaned down, pressing his cold cheek directly against Andy's. This was where he belonged. He was Andy's and Andy was his. Just the two of them. Forever and ever.

This is my entry for Stephanie Hoogstad's unofficial challenge. There's still a little bit of time to enter! You can read all about it here: