The Teddy Bear

Far off, drifting past stars and planets, is a rather lonely glass box. And in that box is something very, very odd. Only the very, very odd thing inside it isn't that very odd at all. It's quite simple really. And reason it's really quite simple is because inside it is a man, the last of his kind, who is about to wake up with a severe case of loneliness. As a journey through the past, the present and through reality it's self is about to ensue. A journey to solve the mystery of his solitude. Bu

He awoke a short while before he actually opened his eyes. This was partly due to the fact he was rather content with were he was and the fact he felt like last night could have ended in deep embarrassment wholly on his part. Entirely like one experiences the hangover of waking up. But being content with where he was he just tried to lie there, eyes tightly shut. Desperately holding on to the last remnants of sleep, it became clear to him that there was no hope of such a simple thing. He knew now what he had to do. For what he had to do was seemingly impossible, out of the question. But with determination set in his head and his heart, he arose from his slumber, blinked a bit and gave a rather wide yawn while his vision continues to clear.

By this time, the glass box had drifter into direct contact with the reflection of that of a dying star. Such a shame, in my opinion, if only life wouldn’t be so carelessly snuffed out. Those planets, rich with life and intelligence, orbiting, knowing so little yet needing to know so much more. The ideas on what’s happening are some kind of pleasing rise in temperature. We should be thankful for the fools. If not for them, the rest of us could not succeed.

Meanwhile, the man in the box had livened up a great deal and was wiping the dreariness from the corners of his eyes that had built-up whilst he was sleeping. He wasn’t aware that he should have stopped rubbing them a while ago because by now the corners of his eyes were becoming redder and rawer, almost to the point of bleeding. This was simply because he had forgotten, like many things he would soon find out. Luckily the man stopped when a certain realisation hit him square in the face; metaphorically of course. The realisation was that his mind was empty. Absolutely barren. As empty as anything could have been. All that there existed was a book of clean blank pages, the writing all gone, completely cleared apart from an annoying headache.

As I said, only confusion was waiting for the man and for many a number of reasons. If he could question and think to himself, to speak aloud. If only a quiet mutter on how inconvenienced he was when he awoke he was when he awoke, then surely his mind was not completely empty, maybe it would start to fill up again to accompany the other things in his mind. Like the quite recent memory of him waking up in the box that surrounded him. But then again if he could do all these things and think his mind could perhaps be empty then maybe he was becoming insane. Insane being a work he had not decided on yet because obviously he couldn’t remember what it meant so he put together an image which resembled pretty much to the “T” the definition of insane. Then if you can think your insane then maybe, just maybe, you might actually be sane and you’re just thinking that your not. Either way you would almost be talking to yourself by this time and would begin to think why. Obviously you would need to clear your head.

It was at that very moment, when he was trying to look for a distraction that he found one in the reflection of the glass in front of him. He noticed what he was wearing; a green and blue stripy top, that seemed as though it was made for someone at least half his side. A pair of blue trousers, although they were skin tight shorts and some socks that made his feet ache. But he, for whatever reason, had yet what was slap-bang in front of him; he just stared and stared at the socks until he caught onto why he was staring. It was because just beyond the tips of his socks was a transparent floor. And as he leaned forward to see what was on the other side it had the most amazing, the most beautiful and the most frightening shock of his life. That feeling from the depth of your stomach encased his thought. Becoming bewildered by what was sprawled before him; he was staring into the daunting abyss of space itself.

This was not at all helping him to clear his head; this was only making things worse. In fact it was definitely  making it worse. Once again he thought to himself; How? Why? What! And once again he began to question his mentality with such things like thinking that he hadn’t awoke yet, so it could all still be part of a dream, maybe it was some sort of hallucination, but maybe he was already insane and sanity was just itself a mere illusion that he clung onto to console him. His mind trying to protect itself from reality. Even though the cold pane of glass supporting him below seemed so real, so solid. The stars were so beautiful, pearls of light lit with tranquility. The sterile planets and the dusty swirls so enticing to watch, the man’s cloudy blue eyes couldn’t leave them alone. He was consumed in wonder and could have probably stared for an eternity, but only if it wasn’t for that persistent voice in his head that kept screaming out loneliness adding to his quite recent memories that he had just collected.

He was so alone. He had no comforting memories to keep him company, only ones that made him confused. He had to come to the conclusion a while back that this wasn’t a normal day. Whatever a normal day was, perhaps it was a normal day. He just couldn’t remember. But there was something in the air that whispered to him and told him that it was not going to get better, but then again, no worse. He cut short his gaze at the shimmering stars and desolate rocks and thought best to try and get to grips with where he was. The main question he was thinking of now was, “Where am I?” And the answer was, when he took notice of his surroundings, in a box. Four transparent walls, a ceiling and a floor, all made of glass. It seemed so straightforward when put like that, but as we know and he was beginning to understand, it really wasn’t.

Drawn from deep thought he started to approach a thing that seemed familiar. A thing sitting in the corner of the box, a thing made of cotton and of stitching, eyes of button and thread. It was a teddy bear. Obliging yet dusty and tattered. An ancient body, ages old secreting innocence and a hint of a possible sinister agenda. The teddy bear, even though lifeless and only an object seemed to be watching the man, its button eyes staring deeply into his. And when he slowly noticed they began to mock him. Its mouth of thread almost shaped into a smile.

Focusing upon those eyes he straightened himself, the clothes tightening around him as he walked towards the bear. So transfixed on the eyes that he had somehow overlooked the clothes that were actually hurting him. The bear sitting on an ornate toy boy. Elaborately decorated, its dusty surface had stars and moons painted upon it; the sense of irony dwelled in his mind but then faded very quickly for the thoughts of what the bear actually represented were seeping through. But I suppose what’s use in irony if you’ve got no one to share it with.

The man’s eyes wondered only for a second to a book that was wedged between the lid of the toy box, prying it open, denying it shut. A glimpse of the cover of the book revealed that it was definitely a child's book and from that cover one could just about see that it was depicting a fairy-tale where the prince and a princess were living happily ever after, in a mighty castle, made of might and enchantment. The man really noticed this because he was still rather caught up in the staring eyes of the bear, taking his undivided attention even in the literal sense of the word. He picked up the bear and gave it a quick dust, still lost in the pits of despair which were those shiny, loose button eyes. Glossy black, winking in the starlight.

Then, as if from nowhere the man seemed to lunge forward, opening his mouth for the first time he could remember, letting out a scream of pain. Holding his head, his hands pressing against his temples. Not realising he had dropped the teddy bear which, when hitting the glass floor gave a soft thud! Another loud scream of agony roared from the man. A dark wave of emotion and remembrance exploded into his newly formed mind. Bringing all those memories which had been locked away to the surface. Pain ever increasing, reaching from his mind, bursting through his entire body. He started to panic, running around the glass box like a trapped animal trying to break out of its cage. His knees buckling, he hit the floor, the cold glass pressing hard against his face once more. There was a sudden silence. The chaos had stopped. Waiting on what was happening. For he was about to remember it all again...

The End

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