Sunday, March 28, 2010

A story I wrote many years ago

Winter was her favourite season and teddy was her favourite toy. She was a young girl whose aspirations rarely exceeded that of having the "bestest" friend in the world. However, deep inside this girl was a longing, a longing of something other than teddy and winter. Something inexplicable. She knew what it was, yet at the same time she had no idea.

Hours she spent playing in the snow, creating castles, all of which her favourite teddy was king. A wonderland she had created in her mind, one which was only ever interrupted by a sudden urge for some sweets. One day she was out playing in the forest and realised she was lost. So long had her and teddy spent fighting off imaginary hordes of wicked fairies that it was now dark and finding the way home was too hard.

She began to cry and clenched teddy as tightly as she had clenched her mother's hand the day of her father's funeral. It was at that precise moment she realised what she longed for; some time alone to grieve. As she sat on the damp forest floor she remembered the times that her and her father had spent together. For he had given her the teddy she loved so much and it was he who had introduced her to her imagination.

After what seemed like hours, she sat up. Her tears ceased to stream from her deep blue eyes and she noticed a woman running towards her. Her mother hugged her tightly and began to cry as well. Then the little girl said:
"Mummy look, Teddy is crying too..."

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