Turning into a bear had never been on Marcus Bay's bucket list.
And when a series of (rather unusual) events leave him trapped in the body of a teddy bear, he has no option but to give his everything in order to turn back hum...
I was a porcelain doll who'd been shattered too many times. Because sometimes the glue just wasn't enough to piece it back together. I had my mask of contentment on. On the outside, I looked the same. My thoughts on the other hand, were acid. They were slowly burning me up from the inside.
It's been a week since my discharge from the hospital. I did not get a tan in there, for the record. I wonder who'd even thought up the hideous name.
Does not live up to it's name 'Sunshine'? Check
Ever since the discharge, everyone had been a little extra nice to me. Not that I didn't enjoy it. Who would turn down being treated like a king every step of the way? But I knew they weren't doing it out of the goodness in their hearts. I was simply a burden that'd been forced upon them.
It didn't help when Ellie's friends came to visit.
The very same girls who'd gone behind her back and bad-mouthed me. In my presence.
Granted, they didn't know I was alive but what they'd done wasn't something you could shove to the back of your mind. It haunted you forever.
"Marcus!" Her screech had nearly deafened me. "Elle has been so worried for you all this time. I'm so glad you're fine."
I had to force myself not to sneer at her or throw a couple of sarcastic retorts her way. Her dark eyes were swimming with fake sincerity. Everyone around us seemed to be under her charm.
I didn't believe her for a second.
I didn't believe anyone, anymore.
The next few days went in a whirl. Relatives I'd never heard of came to visit me - it was an obligation. They came to visit me, alright. But they had that faraway look in their eyes that made me realize that they wished to be anywhere but here.
"How are you?"
"Are you feeling better?"
"We were so worried!"
I couldn't even recognize them anymore. People were like broken gramophone records. They came in with the air of superiority and posed the same questions one after the other.
A small part of me was overjoyed that people cared, while a larger portion was screaming at me to see the truth.
All of them were here because it was what was expected of them. They had to be here not because they cared, but because society wouldn't have it any other way.
I gave back what was expected of me. The robotic responses- "I'm fine.", "Much better." or "Thank you, it means a lot." were circulated, along with a wide smile.
Everything was going perfectly until the day I saw the waffles.
It was a fair morning and our family had just settled in for a breakfast at the table. The sweet smell of waffles and maple syrup made it's way up my nose and I panicked. I must've knocked my plate down in my haste to get away from my food, because I soon found mom bending over to pick the plate up.
There was no way I would be having waffles again. Not now. Not ever.
I shot a deperate glance around, looking for an escape route. That was when the first few words slipped out.
"Remember the time Dad and Mae had the tug of war?" I tried to strike up a conversation to delay the food. I was met by stunned silence.
I knew I'd slipped up.
"Bu-but how did you know that Marcus? Weren't you in the hospital?"
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[ Note added on 9 august]
What I didn't notice was the triumphant glance painted on my father's face. Or the glee in his eyes.
The man was happy. And that was never a good sign.
