Through My Eyes
I know you. Maybe better than anyone else.
When I first met you, you were so tiny, just three months old. I was so happy to be yours.
I watched from the sidelines when you took your first step. You were kind of wobbly at first, but you the hang of it quickly. You always were smart.
During birthdays, I had a place of my own, and even my own piece of cake. That lasted till you were ten, and it wasn't 'cool' to hang out with me anymore.
You would take me out to play in the yard: we'd mow the grass (with the popper, of course. Your parents never let you near an actual lawn mower). A few times you forgot me outside, but when you realized I was missing you made your parents search all night till they found me.
In elementary school there was one day a year I got to come to school with you. When you were told in 5th grade that I couldn't come anymore and you asked why, your classmates told you I wasn't 'cool', whatever that meant.
So I stopped coming. You still talked to me on occasion, but we never went out and played. After a while you stopped talking to me all together. The only way I knew what was going on in your life was to listen in on phone calls to your friends, and this didn't give me much information.
It remained like this till your junior year of high school. You were under so much pressure from your parents, your friends, and your boyfriend had just broken up with you to go out with one of your friends. You curled up on your bed with me and sobbed the stories to me. I didn't recognize a few of the names, but I caught on quickly. I couldn't believe how much I'd missed. Wasn't it only yesterday you were crying because you'd been sent to your room, not about some guy?
You got through it, and graduated high school. It was then that I received a shock: you didn't want to take me to collage. I was to be left with your parents and to live in the attic.
So there I stayed. For four years I lived in the attic you had always been afraid to go into when you were small. At the end of the fourth, I waited for you to come and take me with you to wherever you went. But you never came.
Time went by, seeming longer now that I had nothing to look forward to.
Then it happened. The attic door opened and you mother took me out, saying I had a new job to do. She looked older, but then she should, as it had been eight years since I'd seen her last.
I was taken to the car (after a rough scrubbing I'd prefer not to mention) and driven somewhere I'd never been before. Out of towns I'd known since I first met you, and into a big city. We stopped in front of a house by a bookshop. I remembered you loved to read. I was taken up to the door, and your mother knocked.
Was this it? Would I finally get to see the little girl I'd grown up with all grown up herself?
A man opened the door. Your mother obviously knew him, as she greeted him with a smile and a hug. They chatted for a while about meaningless things, and in the process I was passed from one to the other. She said goodbye, and I suddenly found myself in a new house with no idea what was going on.
He took me upstairs and into a bedroom. There you were. Older, yes, but still beautiful. Looking at you, I understood your mothers comment about a new job. You were pregnant. And from the looks of things, this man was your husband.
He climbed into bed with you and you curled up into him. He handed me to you and your face lit up in happiness. I guess you missed me as much as I missed you.
A baby,I thought as you squeezed the life out of me, your baby.
And every new baby needs a teddy bear.