Alister smiled brightly at his father and nodded. “Sure, Daddy!” Alister picked up a purple crayon and started to draw a bunny rabbit on a blank piece of paper. He drew the rabbit’s head, its ears, its body, and lastly its round, furry tail. Then, Alister set the purple crayon down, and reached for the black crayon in order to draw its eyes.

Henry reached out and grabbed Alister’s wrist in order to stop him. “No, wait, don’t-”

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Alister shot his father a questioning look. “Don’t you want me to finish the drawing?”

“Just…wait a moment, son,” Henry said in a soothing tone.

The Kingsleys waited and waited until an entire hour had passed with nothing out of the ordinary happening.

Henry grew triumphant and his chest swelled with pride. “Aha! You see, Laura? Alister has to finish the drawing for it to come alive. In the case of animals he needs to finish its eyes.” Henry turned his attention to Alister. “You can go ahead and draw its eyes, Son.”

“Okay.” Alister drew two black eyes and filled them in. The drawing of the rabbit glowed and seconds later the rabbit materialized, sitting on the coffee table. It was a very real, flesh and blood rabbit, but with one bizarre feature. It had purple fur.

“Absolutely extraordinary!” Henry remarked, a twinkle in his usually serious brown eyes.

“Extraordinary?” Laura demanded shrilly. “You can’t be serious? This…this is unnatural. Evil!” She pointed her finger at the rabbit that was harmlessly hopping across the tabletop.

Henry let out a sigh. “My Love, you are making a mountain out of a mole hill. This is just a harmless gift that our son has been blessed with. I’m sure that as long as we teach Alister not to finish any of his drawings - something like this will never happen again.”

Laura gawked at her husband in disbelief. “After all this…you’re actually going to allow him to continue drawing, aren’t you? I can’t believe this. We should forbid him from drawing anything - ever again!”

A dark scowl formed on Henry’s face. “You may see Alister’s power as a curse, but I see it as a blessing, a God-given gift. And one shouldn’t scorn gifts from God. To be an artist - that is obviously our boy’s calling. Maybe he was given this power because one day he’s destined to save someone with it.”

“Save someone?” Laura scoffed and waved her hand dismissively through the air. “Our son is evil.”

“You’re wrong, Laura.” Henry shook his head. “No child is born evil…evil is made, but goodness must be taught. As parents it is our responsibility to teach Alister right from wrong, good from evil. And if Alister uses his powers for evil…then I’ll agree with you that he’s a monster, but if he uses his powers for good and to save people then that makes Alister a hero. It means he’s special.”

“I’ll take no part in this!” Laura declared with a huff. “That boy is no longer my son!”

“You’re just rattled by what happened,” Henry said in what he hoped was a soothing tone. “You don’t really mean that.” He hoped she didn’t mean that. Because how could a woman be so cruel as to not love her own son?

“Oh, yes, I do!” Laura countered before getting out of the chair and stomping out of the room without looking back.

Henry’s sorrowful brown eyes followed after her retreating figure, and he ruffled Alister’s hair in an affectionate way. “Alister, you want to make Mommy happy, don’t you?”

Alister nodded eagerly. “Of course, Daddy.”

“Good.” Henry put his hands on his son’s shoulders and gave Alister a serious look. “Then, just promise me one thing - never finish one of your drawings again unless it’s to help someone. Your gift…it scares Mommy. Understand?”

“Okay, Daddy. I promise. I don’t want Mommy to be afraid of me,” Alister’s tiny voice cracked with sadness.

“That’s my boy!” Henry exclaimed before pulling Alister into a fierce hug.

***

The years passed by rather uneventfully for the Kingsley family until Alister turned twelve. One day, Alister was playing hacky sack on the sidewalk outside his house with three of his friends from school.

Two of the boys were laughing and smiling during their game, but Alister noticed that one of his friends seemed to be depressed. “What’s wrong, Billy?” Alister asked concernedly.

“It’s my dog. He died.” Billy sniffled as he remembered the recent loss of his pet.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Billy. What did he look like?” Alister whipped out a piece of chalk. He had a sudden idea that might cheer up his depressed friend.

“He was a huge Rottweiler,” Billy said as he spread his arms wide and excitedly described his pet’s appearance. “And he weighed a hundred and thirty pounds.”

Alister knelt on the sidewalk and began to draw a Rottweiler while his friends watched with rapt attention.

“He wore a collar with his name on it,” Billy added as he peered over Alister’s shoulder.

Alister drew a collar around the dog’s neck. “What was his name?” Alister asked, concentrating hard.

“Duke,” Billy said.

Alister added the name ‘DUKE’ to the stainless-steel nametag, and then stood up to inspect his work.

“Brilliant.” Billy’s voice was laced with awe. “It looks just like him.”

“You’re an amazing artist, Alister,” one of the other boys added.

“Yeah, draw my pet next!” the third boy requested eagerly.

Billy frowned thoughtfully as he gazed down at the drawing of his dog, and nibbled on his lower lip. “But, Alister…you forgot to draw his eyes.”

Alister stiffened. “Ah, I’m sorry. I can’t draw them. I’m not allowed to finish any of my drawings.” He gave his friend an apologetic look.

The three boys shared confused looks. “Well, that’s a stupid house rule! Why not?” Billy asked curiously.

Alister frowned thoughtfully. “You know, what? I don’t…remember. It’s always been that way. If I finish the drawing and my mom finds out she’ll hit my hands with a ruler for sure!”

Billy gave Alister a pleading look, and pressed the palms of his hands together in front of him as if in prayer. “Oh, come on, Alister. Please. You have to finish your drawing of Duke. He still looks…dead like this. I want to remember him looking alive.”

“Yeah, come on, Alister,” one of the other boys said. “We promise we won’t tell your mom.”

“Yeah, it’s a stupid rule anyways,” the third boy added carelessly. “There’s no harm in finishing your drawing of Billy’s pet. It’s not like it’s going to be the end of the world or something.” All three boys laughed at that.

Alister gulped nervously, and his hand trembled slightly. That’s when he vaguely remembered his father telling him that he couldn’t finish his drawings unless it was to help someone. Well, he was trying to help Billy with his grief over the loss of his pet, so it should be alright to finish the drawing then. “Well, okay. As long as you guys promise not to tell.”

“We promise!” all three boys chimed.

Alister crouched down, added two round circles for eyes to his drawing of the Rottweiler, and then filled in the eyes. Immediately, the drawing glowed with a golden light and peeled up off the sidewalk before materializing into a very real, hundred and thirty pound Rottweiler with black and brown fur.

“That was just like magic,” one of the boys breathed in shock.

“It’s a Rottweiler,” the third boy said uneasily. “It’s big.”

Billy was smiling too until he looked at the dog more closely, and noted the red collar around its neck, and the nametag, which read: DUKE. Billy hadn’t told Alister that the collar had been red. Also, the dog was foaming slightly at the mouth. “I know it’s impossible, but that’s the real Duke, isn’t it, Alister? And if that’s true…Duke had rabies and had to be put down!”

Duke set his sights on Billy, and growled. The dog’s lip curled back, revealing its sharp teeth. Billy froze in fear.

Suddenly, Alister remembered why he wasn’t supposed to finish his drawings, and recalled the incident with the bluebird and his mother. “Oh no. What have I done?” Alister staggered backwards a step as the reality of this dangerous situation hit him hard. “Father, help! Help us!” Alister called out towards the townhouse.

From inside the house Henry heard Alister’s call, and quickly left his office, made his way to the living room, and grabbed the fireplace poker. Henry had no idea why his son was calling for help, but whatever it was couldn’t be good. Henry didn’t want to be unarmed in case it was a thief or criminal that was trying to hurt his son or his friends.

When Henry opened the front door and stepped outside, he looked down at the sidewalk and saw that a mad dog was stalking towards one of Alister’s friends. “Hey! Get away from my son and his friends!” Henry called out to get the dog’s attention. The dog immediately set its sights on Henry, and its dark eyes narrowed at the poker in his hand.

As soon as the dog’s attention was directed elsewhere Billy screamed and took off running down the sidewalk, followed by his two friends. Alister remained behind.

Henry raised the poker and made his way down the front steps. Unfortunately, the last step was covered in a thin layer of ice, and when Henry stepped onto it too fast he ended up slipping and falling back onto the steps. The Rottweiler saw his chance and didn’t hesitate to leap towards Henry.

“No!” Alister shouted as he watched the dog attack his father and use its sharp teeth to rip Henry’s throat out. “Stop!”

The dog’s ears twitched as he listened to Alister’s command, and he immediately stopped mauling Henry. But it was already too late. The dog turned around, lowered his head meekly, and approached Alister.

Alister glared fiercely at it even though he could somehow tell it was trying to act apologetic. “What have you done? You killed my father! Go away!” He waved his hand at the dog in a shooing motion. The Rottweiler whimpered and ran off with its tail between its legs.

A gasp had Alister looking up the stairs to see his mother Laura standing on the top step with a horrified look on her face as she eyed the prone, bleeding form of her husband. Her angry gaze shot to Alister and he could see the betrayal swirling in her eyes. “You! What have you done?”

Alister flinched at his mother’s accusation. “I…I didn’t mean to-”

Laura stalked down the steps, grabbed Alister by the arm, and began to drag him inside of the house. “You monster! You killed your own father!”

Alister’s blue eyes filled with tears. “No. I didn’t mean to! I swear! It was an accident. Mommy, please. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you ‘mommy’ me!” Laura snapped, shaking Alister roughly. “I am not your mother! I don’t love you!”

Laura dragged Alister over to the door that led to the basement. She opened the door and shoved Alister inside. “Get in there. You need to be locked up like the monster you are!” She slammed and locked the door after him.

Alister spun around an immediately tried to open the door, to no avail. “No! Wait! Please, Mother! Don’t leave me alone down here.” Alister glanced at the dark staircase that led down to the basement, and shuddered. “It’s scary in here! Please, forgive me!” Alister banged on the door until his knuckles bled. When he ran out of energy he sank to his knees in despair. “Mom…”

***

After Henry Kingsley’s death, Laura went slightly crazy and kept Alister imprisoned in the basement. Because Alister felt guilty about his father’s death he didn’t try to fight his imprisonment, and just went along with his mother’s cruel whims.

Laura felt completely justified in her harsh actions, and thought she was providing a public service by keeping Alister isolated from the rest of civilized human society. Her son wasn’t normal, and so didn’t belong among normal people.

Laura gave Alister plenty of books to read on a wide variety of subjects, and that was her version of home schooling. Alister felt a little like the longhaired Rapunzel shut away in his tower by the evil wizard Gothel. The basement became his lonely world.

Even though painting had led to his imprisonment, Alister didn’t stop painting. He found several old cans of white paint, and painted on the walls of the basement. He probably couldn’t have stopped painting even if he wanted to. He had to paint. It was in his blood. It was just something he had to continue to do. When he caught himself daydreaming he noticed that he’d been unconsciously drawing images on the floor with his finger.

Years passed in this manner, until Laura started to feel the tiniest twinge of guilt for having Alister locked up in the basement. He’d never even tried to escape, and had conformed to using white paint to paint the boring gray walls of the basement. It was hard to see Alister as a monster when he was acting so docile. She began to feel like the evil one, and in order to ease her own conscience Laura decided to gift Alister with some new art supplies: blank canvases, oil paints, turpentine, and brushes.

“Happy seventeenth birthday, Alister,” Laura said as she handed her son the art supplies.

Alister thanked his mother profusely for her gifts, and promised her that he’d never finish a painting ever again.

Now that Alister was able to use color, he started to create paintings of an incredible, imaginary world he’d thought up inside of his head, and that he’d dubbed: Wonderland.

Wonderland was a place born from Alister’s isolation, loneliness, and insanity. Alister painted fanciful, silly things that could never exist in reality like: rocking-horse-flies, bread-and-butterflies, talking flowers, and talking animals that wore clothes like humans.

And Alister was so lonely that he painted imaginary people too. These people were Alister’s only friends: The White King, Chesher, and Katrina.

He painted someone to love - Madeline, the Mad Hatter.

He painted someone powerful to admire - Crim, the King of Hearts.

When Laura entered the basement to bring Alister his daily food tray, even she had to admit that Alister’s paintings of Wonderland were amazing. Maybe Henry had been right - this was a gift. And gifts should be shared with the world. Shouldn’t they?

“These latest paintings of yours are quite lovely,” Laura complimented airily as she tucked a stray strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “What if I tried to sell a few at the next Art, Design and Craft Fair?” She tried to keep her manner nonchalant.

Alister’s paintbrush fell from his limp fingers to clatter to the floor and he turned to gape at his mother in shock. He opened and closed his mouth as he tried to formulate a response like a fish out of water gasping for air, but he was too thrown by his mother complimenting him out of the blue. Did this mean she was finally learning to accept his gift? He lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug, and had to duck his head to hide the small, hopeful smile that had formed on his face. “Sure. Whatever.”