teddy bear

iii.

Late one night, when I awoke from a nightmare, mother ran into my room to comfort me. I was nearly seven when she held me close, kissing my forehead and murmuring encouraging comments to me. It was when my father stormed in, his footsteps as loud as the rain outside, and stole her from me, that he yelled at her and smacked her cheek. But she only smiled, she didn't care that he was beating her senseless, she never did. I sat and watched. Father took mother back to their bedroom, locking my door behind them.

I was cold, alone, with nothing other than my teddy bear to comfort me.

I didn't always like the rain. In previous years it scared me. The loud rainfall drove me insane; I thought someone was coming to harm me. By the time I was seven my mother was no longer able to sneak out of her room to comfort me, so all loud noises seemed to throw me off as a child. On stormy nights, I would hold my teddy bear close to my chest, burying myself in the brown fur because he kept me safe during the night and filled me with joy during the day. And my beloved teddy bear kept me company when I awoke from bad dreams. He made everything okay.

It was my mother who then taught me to love dangerous things. Like my father, the rain, and nightmares. And so I grew older with the mindset that tricked me into thinking there was no such thing as danger, and that fear was simply another kind of love.

...

Late one night, Shawn and I sat on the sofa in his apartment. He had made coffee for himself, though it was nearly one in the morning. Our legs were tangled together as we watched television. I wasn't really watching; the burning sensation that came from his bare skin on my bare skin was distracting. I craved more of his touch.

It began to rain outside. Shawn looked to me and raised an eyebrow- he knew how much I loved rain. I nodded to him, watching as he averted his gaze back to the program. I sighed. "Adele?" Shawn asked. He didn't remove his eyes from the screen.

"Hm?"

"You sighed."

My voice was nothing but a gentle whisper as he looked to me for an explanation. "Oh. Sorry." The rain grew louder. Shawn shuddered. He examined our close proximity, narrowing his eyes at the empty side of the couch. It seemed silly, the fact that the two of us were tangled together. There was a whole other part of the couch unoccupied. Shawn said nothing.

"I think I might be losing my house." I announced. And this was no lie; my sister was falling behind on the rent and refused to let me help. My sister was the reason I had no job, the reason I felt so unwanted and empty and lost. She told me it was for the best if she handled paying for our home- that she didn't need help from me, her different little sister.

I was old enough- mature enough. I just didn't understand why she treated me this way. "What do you mean?" Shawn's eyebrows were furrowed as I rubbed my forehead, stressed.

"My sister hasn't payed the rent in two months."

"Well, if you're worried, why don't you get a job and help her?"

"I-I can't."

"Why not?"

Words were trapped in my throat as I swallowed. "I don't know."

Shawn shook his head in disbelief. "Why is that your answer to everything? 'I don't know,' that's all you say." It was my answer to everything because it was easier than explaining. Because it wasn't my job to explain everything, it was my mother's, but she was gone.

I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to tell him how sick I was- I wanted him to think I was perfect. So I said 'I don't know,' whenever he'd ask something. I feared him finding out the reason I read so much was so that I didn't have to be myself, or why the reason I like the rain is because my sick mother was put out of her misery. Or how when my father raised a hand to me I sat and waited because fear was simply another kind of love.

"I'm sorry." I told him. He looked confused as tears brimmed my eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Shawn scooted closer to me on his sofa. I raised a shaky hand to brush away my tears but they just kept falling. It was awful; him watching me cry made me feel so weak. And I just kept apologizing. Apologizing for being the way I was and for not knowing when I should.

The two of us lied down on Shawn's orange sofa, his hands grasping me closer to his chest and his lips nearly touching the shell of my ear. He murmured things, but I don't remember what he spoke of. It felt odd, having somebody I trusted so close to my heart at such a tight grip. My hands enclosed his own and my tears dried.

It was then I knew I loved him. I didn't dare tell him, for the fear of him not replying consumed me. The way his large fingers curled around my body sent me into a state of shock. This beautiful boy meant the world to me. On nights when I was afraid he would hold me close, keeping me secure in the sanctuary that was his embrace. Shawn was my teddy bear, for he kept me safe during the night and filled me with joy during the day.

When it was three in the morning I spoke again: "I hate the rain." I told him. And it was important to me that he knew that. I hated having to lie to him. I hated telling people I loved rain because I feared it so much. I was sick of tricking myself.

And then he replied, speaking in the warmest of whispers, he said: "I know, Adele, I know."

this story is something i am so proud of and love the positive feedback from u guys. honestly this means the world to me that you all enjoy my work

so please don't forget to vote and review, because i love hearing what you guys have to say. and i always reply to every comment i get to make sure u know how much i appreciate u all and also because i love talking to everyone about my stories

love u guys. peace out homies