My First Story

My Dad's Bear

     I awoke to the explosion of thunder outside my window. My room was illuminated by the lightning that quickly followed. In the second of light that had, I noticed something was off. I paid it no mind as tried to fall back to sleep. The thunder rumbled again, allowing more light to enter the window. In the light I saw what gave the room such an off putting atmosphere. There, on the top of my dresser, was a bear. An old, worn down bear that belonged to my father.
 
     My mom and I were going through some of his old belongings yesterday, exactly two weeks after the accident. My mom and I were distraught after the funeral, but sought refuge in each other. I was the one who came up with the idea of going through his childhood memorabilia. All in the hope of giving us some sense of closure. It was me who found the bear in a box full of his old toys. My mom wanted to keep it in her room, as some sort of sign that dad was still watching over us, or something like that. I was to focused on the bear itself to pay any attention. I’m sure it was an adorable toy when dad first got it, but now it looked creepy. The arms were roughly stitched to the body, as if it was in some desperate attempt to keep them attached. The left eye was gone, along with part of the left ear. I was happy to allow my mom to keep it. But how did it find its way into my room?

     The bear seemed to gaze into my soul, to abuse the cliche. It added darker aura to the room that I was foreign to the usually bright space. I froze. Scared. How did it get here? Who put it here? Mom, where is mom? In a last ditch effort to protect myself, I hid under the covers. I felt so childish and hopeless to assume that an effort as weak as this would protect me from that thing, whatever it was. More thunder. More lightning. The storm went on for what seemed like hours before I finally built up the courage to peek outside of the covers again. I waited for the lightning to flash again so I could see my room. And when it came, it was gone. The bear was missing from its spot on my dresser. As I layed there, staring at the empty space on my dresser, I heard my bedroom door close. I dare not look over. All I could do was hide under my covers, which seemed to have worked, and wait for morning to come.

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So, how did I do? I'm totally open to some constructive criticism. Thanks for helping me out. Bye! \(n_n)/