I had been sitting at the kitchen table drinking my morning tea when I glanced over and saw my little brother finishing his fifth drawing of the morning.

            "What are you doing, Matt?" I questioned.

             "Drawing," he replied numbly.

            "What are you drawing?"

Matt paused momentarily and looked up at me. His brown eyes were sad and red at the corners. He held my gaze for a second before turning to his drawing once more. Strange. I finished my tea and retreated to my bedroom to finish getting ready. I combed my short brown hair and slipped on an olive green skirt and white button down blouse. When I walked back out to the kitchen Matt was beginning the sixth drawing, the same picture as before. I nearly question him, but I remembered the sad, deflated look he had given me and thought other wise.

                "Bye Matt." I said, kissing his mop blond head. The kindergartener only continued to draw.

               I arrive at my job as a third grade special ed teacher, ready to begin another day.  The kids were all there, sitting at the group table working on an art project. I smiled, and placed my things on my desk. I walked over to Janie, an autistic girl.
            "Hey Janie," I said. The girl didn't respond. I looked over her shoulder. Her pencil was drawing around in a circle. Across from the circle was a man and a woman. My brow furrowed as I looked over at another child's paper who was drawing the same thing.

              "What's this?" I asked the children. They all continued to draw, ignoring my existence entirely.

                What is happening? I thought. Then I remembered. Matt.

He hadn't told me what he was drawing, but I caught a glimpse of it as I had bent over to kiss him. It was a circle, with a man and a woman on either side. I ran to my desk and picked up my car keys, and darted out of the building.

                I pulled into my driveway and hurried through the front door. Matt was still there, working on another picture. His hand working furiously on the circle.

                "Matt!" I cried. "What are you drawing?" He ignored me and continued to draw. I stormed forward and snatched to picture from him. Matt's hand fell forward resting on the wood of the table.

                "Matt," I repeated. "What are you drawing? Why is everyone drawing this?"

Matt's little head rose, his eyes still sad, but now they were completely red. The irises, the pupil, everything. I took a step back.

                "Matt?"

                "They make us draw." He said, his voice was demonic. "It's the only way they can come here. They need us to be free. They need us to rule."

                 I took another step back.              

                 "They don't need you," he snarled. "The adults must die." Then he lunged at me, pencil in hand