[Tragedy] Painting

For over 3 years spending abroad, I went home on my 4 years old son's birthday.

"Here's your present, baby!" I handed him his gift. Perks of being excited, he started to unwrap it.

"Painting tools?!" He exclaimed while a cute smile was plastered in his face. He hugged me and said 'thank you'.

But little did I know, the gift I sent him was the reason he became more and more psychotic.

I left the country and continued my work abroad. It was already 5 years until...

Our housemaid became worried and told everything to me.

She reported that my son became obssessed with scary arts. He often paints dead people and portraits of a person being tortured.

He was feared by everyone. They started to spread rumors about my son being a descendant of evil. I can't even argue with them.

It's not that I claim that my son is, but because of what he is showing to everybody.

Our housemaid resigned. Even the drivers and the others with the same reasons why. They are scared on my son. I became really worried.

I went home and saw different portraits on his room. A woman being cut down to pieces. A man eating his own flesh. Everything gave me shivers.

"Mommy?! Is that you?!" I saw my son who is 10 years old now. He's smiling from ear to ear but I made a distance between us.

"D-don't come n-near me! Monster!" I yelled at him and he started to cry. He's a pyschopath! He's not the son I used to know!

I ran as fast as I could and called a specialist to check him. While they are taking him away, he kept on shouting.

"Mommy!"

"Mommy help me!"

Why did you end up like that, son? You dissapoint me. I called his psychiatrist to request something.

"After you treat him, please, put him in the orphanage. I can't raise a child like him anymore."

"But--" I ended the call before the psychiatrist can even tell a word. I went inside the house.

I have to get rid of his creepy paintings first. I went to the his room and gathered all of his creepy paintings in one part of the room.

I was busy cleaning his room when I saw a painting. I gasped when I saw it. I can't even move an inch on what I saw.

It's a painting of my son and me hugging and smiling at each other! It was painted beautifully!

Then I received a text message from the psychiatrist,

"I've already checked him up. He's depressed 'cause you haven't been in his side in such a long time. He misses you so much ma'am. The creepy paintings he did, it's just to get your attention."

All he wanted in the first place is us, being together while laughing at each other again. It gave me tears and I realized how awful I was.