A Teddy Bear’s Mission

Guest Writing Prompt: “You buy your son a teddy. Unknown to you, the bear saves the child from monsters.” 

By Jessie Wing

As soon as a Teddy bear is stitched together, we know our purpose. We sit on the shelf waiting to be selected for a mission. Some of us wait for years before we are chosen but eventually, we are all chosen.

I sat on the shelf for longer than I cared. I had to watch bear after bear get chosen while I sat back. One day, a nice woman walked up and down our shelf. She picked up bears, turning them over in her hands before setting them back down. I watched her frustration mount as she searched for the perfect bear. Words cannot describe my elation as she placed me in her shopping cart.

Me! I was finally being chosen! I could not believe my eyes as we made our way to the woman’s car. I sat in the backseat, mentally preparing myself for my mission. I had no idea what kind of situation I was going to be involved with, but I knew what had to be done.

The woman carried me inside and laid me in the crib next to the little boy. My heart melted as he hugged me. He babbled in my ear and swung me around. I had never felt more complete. I waited all day, mentally preparing myself for the mission ahead.

When night finally came and the family drifted off to sleep, I knew my time had come. From the moment a Teddy bear is made, we know it is our job to protect our child. Parents do their best, but the time always comes when they feel the need to buy a Teddy bear. They can’t explain it, they just know their child needs one.

I sat in the crib waiting. I could feel the tension building in the air when the first footstep reached my ears. The floor creaked. Parents usually shrugged off the creaking as the house adjusting,  but I knew better. The footsteps grew closer to my child’s room. I jumped out of the crib, trying to put some space between me and my child. The door creaked open agonizingly slow.

I spent countless hours hoping for this. Nothing could prepare me for what walked through the door. The monster seemed to be made of Shadows. Fear of the dark is a natural thing, but people are more afraid of what could be in the dark. What hides in the dark is almost always worse. I could make out the monster’s arms and legs, but everything else was indistinguishable. The monster did not even seem to have a face.

The monster let out a low hiss and began to drift towards my child. My determination grew as the monster advanced. I walked closer to the monster, feeling myself shift. My claws extended and sharpened. The toys shrank away as I grew, tripling in size. I sank my claws into the shadow, slashing and clawing at the beast.

As we fought, the monster started to fade away. With every chunk I tore away, the monster grew weaker. When it was gone, I shrank back to my normal size. I climbed back into my boy’s crib, ready for another day of snuggles and playing. The monsters were sure to be back, but I would be there. It’s my job after all.

 

Our very first guest poster Jessica brings this piece. Find more of her wonderful blogging posts here.

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