creative writting stories

teadybear story 3

I see the car pull up the drive way, Annabelle jumps out from the back seat and runs up the front porch, a huge smile on her face. Her mom follows after her put at a slower pace. The front door slams open as Annabelle slips away from view. I can hear her footsteps ringing through the house, her sweet little voice carries up the stairs as she greets her dad, I know that in a few seconds I won’t be alone any more. From where I sit on the bed I can see her door slam open and her cute little face lights up the moment she sees me.

“Teady!” she squeals and rushes over, picks me up and embraces me in a hug. “I missed you!”

I wish I could respond I wish I could ask how her day went. But almost magically she reads my mind.

“School was fun today teady. She said “I drew a picture of you today.” She sat me down gently on her bed, and ruffled in her princess backpack until she found her picture. It was very colorful, my body was a very big oval with smaller ovals coming outside of it making my arms and legs, I had a huge smile on my face and instead of having my fur a dark brown she colored it with rainbows and butterflies. It was beautiful.

“Isn’t it pretty?” she asked

I wished I could say yes. But like usual she seemed to hear me. “Thanks” she said picking me up again.

“I love you teady,”

And then I woke up.

The sun is already shining through the windows and Annabelle is still fast asleep. Her ruffled, blonde, curly hair is sprawled around her face.

I sit on an old dusty shelf, like I have been for many years now. To my left is all her old princess books, to my right is her satin case filled with her dolls and there beautiful dresses. It’s been many years since anyone has looked at us, let alone touch us.

Under me the door opens a blonde head peaks in and from the grey roots and manicured nails I think it is her mother.

“Annabelle,” she whispered with no response.

“Annabelle,” she said a little louder walking over to the bed.

“C’mon sweetie time to get up,” she whispered sitting on the foot of the bed and gently shaking her still fast asleep daughter.

 The blue and green comforter shoots up to cover Annabelle’s face as she moans.

“Mom, I don’t want to”

“C’mon Annie your dad want to talk to you,” she replied as she stood up. “You can’t stay in bed all day”

“Watch me” Annabelle mumbles. Although through the blanket it sounds more like “mawtch mwe”

Her mom sighs and walks out the door.

An hour passes and then another one and Annabelle decides to get herself out of bed. She sits up and stretches.  Her blue tank top and white shorts are still shuffled. She gets her clothes for the day and her towel and goes to the bathroom to take her shower.

She didn’t ever look at me. I can’t recognize her anymore, what happened to the old Annie the one that would spend hours talking to me and I would listen; now she won’t even look at me, she used to love to dress up in tutus and plastic crowns, now it’s only shorts and tank tops from areopostale. She used to decorate her walls with hand drawn pictures, now all I see are boy bands. What happened to my best friend?

Twenty minutes later she returns, her hair still wet but her blue eyes are heavily done up in makeup. She bend over her bed looking for her cell phone, as her hair falls off her shoulders it reveals the tattoo on her neck of an old Chinese symbol with swirls surrounding it.

“Annabelle!” her dad yells from down stairs.

She sighs and moves toward her door “what?!” she yells back.

“Get down here right now!” she walks down stairs and disappears from view, but not from hearing.

“What the hell is this” he asks “you have an F in English, math, and history”

“And,” she says “what’s your point?”

“And what the hell Annabelle! You need to get your grades up young lady!” he yelled “I have your phone and you’re not getting it back until you get at least a c!”

“What?” she screams “that’s impossible where the hell do I even start?”

“Start here you have a speech, a favorite possession go work on that”

“Fine” she sighed knowing way to well she wasn’t going to win this battle. Her foot steps are loud and clear as she walks up the stairs.

“Favorite possessions” she says to herself as she looks around her room.

She looks at me for the first time in a decade. Annabelle walks over to her desk and grabs her chair and slides it under the shelf. She reaches up and grabs me for the first time since I can remember.

“Teady...” she whispers, smiling.