Brown Bear

B is for the brown bear that leaned against the couch. Bear Bear was his name. He had been there for the first heartbreak, the first sleepless night, the first night she screamed into his fur as it dampened with tears; he was there for so many firsts.

B is for the brown bear she sat next to with tears in her eyes again. Not from some boy who decided to play around with her heart or because of a friend using her for something, but because there was blue ink stained into the back of his head. She had no idea where this ink was from. "He got shot!" She screamed out when she felt the liquid on her fingers. Her mom had to calm her down like a child as she scrubbed away the extra that was on top before putting her childhood bear into the washer.

B is for the brown bear that was spinning in water and even as the teenager she was when this happened, she felt like she had been transported back to when she was 5 years old again when she would cry and scream about leaving him at her grandparents house when she had spent the night the day before and her mom had to turn around. She was more afraid of having to let go and get rid of him than she was of the thought of a blue stain on the back of his head forever. He was the last bit of childhood innocence that she had left.

B is for the brown bear that was a representation of the little girl who constantly made him attend tea parties; he likes green tea with just a dash of honey. Maybe she should get him a cup after this whole thing. I'm sure he misses those little parties, sitting next to his other friends that he had to watch get pushed into bags and taken away to never be seen again. But it's okay, they're going to make other kids happy. I know they are. They are going to make up for the times the little girl got her own childhood ripped into pieces in front of the stuffed animals, tainting their memories too.

Closet Space

C is for the chest tightening feeling of coming face to face with her abandoned childhood as she cleaned out her room. The one that the girl shoved in a closet a little too quickly. The one that she thought she didn't need because all she wanted was to grow up. All she wanted was to be older.

C is for the closet, what a great place to hide things the little girl never wanted people to see or find until she wanted them too. Things were shoved into small corners and cubbies. Everything that she pulled out made her smile bittersweetly as the memories attached flooded her brain. Paper drawings, oh yeah these were from my friend in 4th grade. I wonder if they're okay. Oh, so that's what happened to that stuffed dog I got from a convention when I was still in the Girl Scouts.

C is for the closet where she reached up and grabbed the pink wicker basket that was sitting on the top shelf of the closet and the glass cups inside clinked loudly against each other. Her heart sank at the thought of them being broken. Almost like these glass cups represented her own childhood. A fragile glass cup that she shoved into the corner of the closet to get it out of the way and never have to think of breaking them. When she opened the container to see that her favorite cup hadn't been broken but just merely chipped, a wave of relief washed over her. The set was a mix of Hello Kitty and Disney princesses on the plates and cups. It was a little ironic that it was Belle's cup that was chipped since she had always been the little girl's favorite princess.

C is for the cups that were still in good shape so she decided to keep it to the side. Maybe she could have another tea party with her future nieces or even her own kids. Maybe she could let them have a long childhood. She knew she needed to break this cycle of feeling like she needed to grow up faster than she really had too.

Dollhouse

D is for the dollhouse that the little girl is helping her dad carry down the stairs to go sit in the garage next to the bags filled with old stuffed animals and toys she's letting other kids have. Well, maybe even adults that are trying to relive some part of their childhood that was taken from them like it was taken from her too.

D is for the dollhouse that she was thinking about the times she played with her dolls that were a little too big for the furniture inside the house or the amount of times she had rearranged the furniture for every new "family" that came into the house. They were always picture perfect. A happy mom and dad that loved each other and openly welcomed their kids' struggles. The way dolls can actually show how you want life to be and how different it is from your real life is amazing.

D is for the dollhouse and the hours the little girl spent, staring at these dolls, wishing it's how her own life played out too. The same dolls that she would cast as the mom and dad and kids forgot their roles from the last time she played with them. They forgot what had happened the last time they were in the house. I wish I could forget what had happened in the house. I wish I could rearrange my room and then all the memories would be erased and I could start anew and have a new life and thoughts. I wish I could forget my face being squished against the pillows of my bed and the tears that had darkened the white in between the zebra stripes on my pillow case.

Expectations

E is for the expectations placed on a kid who was just trying to have unlimited tea parties with her stuffed animals. Trying to show them that life could be sweet and to fill their memories of her laughing and playing with them instead of her crying and curled up into a ball with them surrounding her like a hug from a parent. Maybe it was actually just her trying to cling onto a small place to be alone and carefree.

E is for the expectations placed on a kid who was just trying to make stories with her dolls. Make somewhat of her own comfort and distraction from the yelling that was happening downstairs or right outside her room. Not speaking what the dolls were saying out loud but in her mind, scared that she'd be yelled out for making up certain storylines.

E is for the expectations placed on a kid who only liked school because it was the first time she was praised for something. The fear of failure and another screaming match made her scared of falling below average. Now she's shaking as she stares at the math problems she can't seem to understand and now she's scared to ask for help and be that scared little girl again.