The Teddy Bear

The Teddy Bear *Chapter One*

“Mom! Dad! Where are you?” I shouted into the night. Stumbling around, I searched for the warmth of my mom’s arm or the gruff feeling of my dad’s beard. The immense sting of pain radiated through my body. The smell of burning car parts filled the air and smoke billowed upwards towards the starry sky. Orange flames from the wreckage flickered fiercely, casting eerie shadows against everything close by. I staggered drunkenly about, growing weaker and weaker by the second. The throb of my body was beginning to take control. I knew I was going to lose this battle soon. But the only thing that mattered was finding my parents.

“Where are you!?” I tried again. Tears of desperation spilled down my dirty, bloody face. I was on my knees now, pain gripping me tighter.

“Koda,” came a faint voice. “Koda, is that you?”

“Mom!” I exclaimed, crawling towards the voice. I could hear the soft echo of sirens in the distance.

Inching closer to the rising fire, I spotted my mother, tangled in all of the mess. My father was not in sight. I only dared to look at her face; the rest of her body was most likely mangled and burned. 

“Mom, are you okay?” I asked feebly. 

“Koda,” her weak voice was barely audible over the roar of the flames and the approaching ambulances. “I’m dying.”

I had no response. Instead a garbled cry pushed itself out of my mouth.

"Save me, Koda! Save me!” She wailed. The sirens blared. The burning car remains crackled and popped. The screeches of pain and suffering bellowed.

“Stop!” I shot up, my eyes wide and my breathing erratic. Sweat covered my body and drenched my bed sheets.

“Dammit,” I muttered, pushing my hair away from my face. “It was a dream again.”

Ever since the tragic end of my parents, the horrible memories that I shoved away to forget about seemed to bubble up in my subconscious, causing me to have never ending nightmares.

Involuntarily, my hand moved to my bare stomach and caressed the mark of a seatbelt that was forever imprinted onto my white skin. A scar that would always remind of the day my life shattered.

The pitter-patter of rain woke me from my reverie and I looked out the window. The world outside was gloomy and wet; a perfect day to visit the cemetery.

I pushed the now damp covers off me and ambled over to my dresser. Reaching for my brush, I attempted to tame the black, wavy mass of hair that stood atop my head. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and almost jumped back. I looked unrecognizable. Not only was my hair looking wild, but my green eyes were glinting with fear and my usually pale face flushed rosy pink. 

"Koda? Is everything all right?" My Aunt Charlotte's soft voice sounded from outside my bedroom door. 

After my parents died when I was nine, I went to live with my Dad's sister, Charlotte. She was the only one of my relatives who would take me in. My Aunt Charlotte was a small, pudgy lady who didn't have a mean bone in her body. She had never been married or had children. No one knew why she decided to shut herself up in her house all her life, but she did. I think she felt lonely and was more than happy to take me in. 

"Yes. I'm okay." I called.

I heard her hesitating at my door. "Can I come in?"

I had no choice but to open the door and let her in. She waddled to the center and looked around, most likely making sure I wasn't trying to hide something. After a sweep of the room, her eyes rested on me.