Almost Is Never Enough

1. - trauma

Chapter One.

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(Flashback)

   "Doc McStuffins, Doc McStuffins, the Doc is gonna help you feel better."

   As I am watching my favorite show on earth, Doc McStuffins, I sing along to the theme song, dancing with my stuffed toy Lambie. The show gives me a sense of happiness and I watch every episode there is. You can say I'm a huge fan. Once the theme is over, I sit down to watch the first part of the episode. I look down at Lambie and back at the television screen. My thumb softly caresses the top of her head, and it is followed by a kiss.

   "Lambie, I don't know what I would do without you." I assure her lovingly, and in my clutch, hold her close to my heart. My finger soon feels something that is very wrong. Very wrong. It feels like soft cotton, almost. I come to the assumption that Lambie has a tear underneath her arm, where her armpit is (armpit? eww). I take a look to make sure I am right. The tear is wider than I expected.

   "Oh no. Looks like Mommy is gonna have to look at this and fix it." My mother is very skilled and an experienced expert at sewing articles of fabric and other things together. I look to her for assistance whenever my stuffed animals are torn, and she always sees to making them all better by stitching it up. My mother is a hero to my stuffed animals, but she is nothing like the toy-fixer-upper heroine Doc.

   I scoop up Lambie under my arms and run downstairs to find Mommy watching Food Network. I don't really see why she would watch something that would make her hungry. I mean, there's nothing wrong with watching people cook food on TV, but every time I do watch those programs, I end up quite famished and settling with Fritos or pretzels or some other type of snack. Anyways, I ask my mother if she can fix Lambie.

   "Mommy, I think Lambie has a tear. You think you can fix her, Mommy, please?" I plead, already knowing the answer to the question.

   "Of course," Mommy responded sweetly, holding out her hand for me to place Lambie. "but I think your stuffed animals are tired of tearing. It would really help if you were a little less reckless with your stuffies. They're special. I know mine were special to me when I was your age."

   "You had stuffed animals? No way. I don't believe it. Plus, I'm am careful with my toys, well, now. Madison was the one who tore Lambie. She was here yesterday and in my room. I did not mess with Lambie that entire day, Mommy." I laugh, climbing up to the sofa. I sit down with Mommy as she observes the accident.

   "Madison's only a year old. She doesn't know right from wrong." She grins and leans to kiss my nose. "She's also your cousin. Remember the Golden Rule..." She reminds me. I roll my eyes playfully and chuckle.

   "I know, Mommy. I know. 'Do unto others as you want them to do unto you.' I'm not picking on her, I'm just, you know... telling you what she did. That's all." I address to her. I love Madison, but I want her to know where I stand when it comes to my toys. Do unto others as you want them to do unto you. That also means if you don't want people touching your stuff, then don't touch theirs. Right?

   Despite all the peace and quiet we have right now, we hear a pound on the door. It is rapid and hard. Who could that be? It's probably Daddy.

   "Daddy!" I holler as I run towards the closed door with a smile on my face. However, my mother stops me from going any farther to the door.

   "Stop, Alana! It could be a stranger." My mom warns me, and then we both scoot back to the couch, suspecting it is a stranger. Soon, suspense fills the air, and I start to worry about what will happen. The person knocks even harder.