Where's Brown bear?

Episode 5 - The Darkness Seeps in

Big bear tears ran down my face, they traced down my nose, and then dripped onto my knee. I tried to wipe them away but my arm didn't seem to work.

Through blurry black and grey I looked and saw my arm wasn't even there! Where was my arm! Oh no! Where was my eye? Now my arm was gone too! I must look like such an ugly, stupid and unlovable thing. Nothing like a cuddly bear at all!

I had been tossed into the toi-toi bush near the lake – which I suppose was lovely and blue. Flowers were growing nearby, they were all black and white and grey. There were some birds-of-paradise flowers there too. I remember they used to have bright green beaks with a crest of orange, apricot and red. Not anymore.

I could only imagine the colours outside of the cutting-grass prison. Clumps of flax were planted around the lakes edge: some red, some green, and some even yellow. If only I had both eyes, I could see the beautiful colours they really were! It's all plain grey and black. Now I really did cry, I cried and I cried. "I'm so stupid!" I tried to remember my Gemma. Probably someone else's Gemma now.

It's getting dark. Night-time is here. My thoughts are getting dark too; very dark. I'll never be happy again, Gemma would not love me anymore. Gemma would be very mad at me for running away and not want to know about me. Forget about me.

Maybe I should just forget about Gemma. I bet even now she has a new bear, a good bear. A well behaved bear, not me anymore. I'm not her favourite.

It's very dark now, the leaves are noisy, rustling. The toi-toi's are creaking, I'm scared now. The toi-toi flowers are trying to attack me, they are swaying so badly. It's getting cold, and damp and I wish I were home in bed with my Gemma, anyone's Gemma.

"Brown Bear, Brown Bear. Where are you?" What was that? It was morning now and I was wetter than ever. It had rained in the night and the rain had washed some of the mud away. Washed away some of the filth of the dirty boy with the sticky hands and grubby face. The rain could have washed away some of the slobber that I was covered in from the nasty black dog too. I hope so. I can't really tell because I still couldn't see very well. Everything still looked just as grey and dirty as it did yesterday, but I feel a little cleaner. Oh look at the tears in my coat, look were my stuffing has fallen out of the holes. I'm still cold and matted, and still stuck in this cutting-grass.