{ELEMENTISTS OF WILLOW FOREST BOOK V} The Journey Across Water

I Totally Did Not Keep the Teddy Bear

19: I Totally Did Not Keep the Teddy Bear

Wait! Sorry! There's been an error.

Not that I'm sorry, of course, but there's been an error.

You see, Olivia, I think I may have just, possibly, slightly accidently mentioned to you that I had been, you know, happy.

Obviously, I can't have been, because that would have gone against my anti-happiness-until-I-find-a-place-where-nobody-cares-about-the-past-and-only-the-present-matters philosophy. I was just, you know, relieved. Extremely, extremely relieved. But I wasn't happy. Definitely not. 'Cause that would have gone against my philosophy.

Oh, come on, Olivia. I'll prove it to you by spelling philosophy!

What? You actually want me to spell philosophy? I was just- fine. It's F- wait, no, F-, is it an F? Very helpful. F-I-L-L-O-S-S-O-H-F-E-E.

Olivia, why are you laughing? Olivia STOP LAUGHING!

Sorry. I didn't mean to set the table on fire. Sorry. Sorry. You can just grow another one, right? Sorry.

What do mean, it's a nice change to have me apologise for something? OOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVVVVIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fine! Yes, I'll continue with the story.

Where was... Oh yes! Care Home Number Seven.

Anyway, after straying, just, you know, I tiny bit towards being happy and breaking my F-I-L-L-O-S-S-O-H-F-E-E about being happy, I decided that there was no way I could possibly risk coming even a tiny bit that close ever ever ever ever again.

I decided I ought to figure out a new schedule for Care Home Number Seven. A sort of brand new anti-happiness regime, where I wouldn't lose sight of what I was aiming for EVER. I needed to go back to being miserable and angry 24/7. Except, maybe not too angry. No more fires that had NOTHING TO DO WITH ME.

Hmm. Maybe I should just go somewhere where everyone has forgotten the Wi-Fi passcode...

Unfortunately, the biggest issue with being miserable is that for some weird reason most people aren't.

Usually, whenever I go to a new Care Home, all the children are told to hide in their rooms while social workers scream at each other, demanding free stuff for taking me, and offering free stuff for getting rid of me. However, at this one, all these kids were lined up happily, smiling and grinning, in the hallway as I came in.

Sickos.

I mean, one handed me a teddy bear. A pink fluffy one.

THEY DARED TO HAND ME A TEDDY BEAR.

The place had such a wholesome, happy vibe to it that I felt, well, almost welcome. It was like they actually wanted me there. Which couldn't be right, of course, because I'm surely not wanted anywhere. It was just... well... weird. We had cake on birthdays. There was a Wendy house in the garden. Everyone had wellie boots lined up in the hall, and was taken to play in the park after school, and there were always flowers on the windowsills and sandwiches in the kitchen and photos on the fridge, and all these little things, just all these little things that made it feel so nice, and so kind, and so, well, homely.

It was the homeliest Home I'd ever been in.

I suppose I could have taken advantage of it. I could have joined in, and made friends, and had a nice life at Care Home Number Seven for years and years and years. Even the tutor I had was better. She even kept her promises about Art lessons. I had a big room, and computer privileges, and a pin board, and space to put up pictures in the dining room, and a gold star chart, and slippers and a dressing gown hook and my own spade for gardening and space to put my trainers and, and, and...