You called?

James hated his parents. They had taken away his toys and sold them to a store to be sold to other kids who had everything anyways.
He had burst into tears and threw a tantrum, only to be slapped and locked in his room.
"Spoiled brat! When you learn to have a giving heart, you may come out!"
James steamed and grabbed his lamp and threw it at the door. "I hate you!"
The lamp shattered and fell to the floor.
James scowled as he gripped a shard in his hand, blood trickling from his fingers.
"I can do what I want whenever I want..." He grumbled as he plopped down, "Stupid buttheads. I hate them. I don't need to share my toys. They're mine!" He threw the shard at the door.
His blood on that shard made a splat mark on the door.
He huffed and looked down at the floor, wiping his bloody fingers in the carpet. "I hate them. I hate hate hate them. They don't know anything." He drew a smiley face in the carpet with his blood, "I don't need them. They're stupid. I hate them. I wish they died!"
A sudden cold chill slithered up James' spine causing his body to freeze. He looked up... and gasped, too choked to even scream.
"You called?..." The Smile queried darkly, his forever plastered grin staring down at the fear stricken boy...