"Teddy"
By
Max Booth III


   I love Sam.

    She completes me.  Everything I think about involves her.  I do not leave without her.  I stay with her; I hug her when she is sad; I cheer her up when she needs cheering up; I play with her when she’s in a playful mood.  Anything she wants, I do.  That is my job, my compassion.  Even though I’ve been all around the world for years and years, I cannot see myself without Sam.  It would be beyond torture.  It’d be worse than Hell.  I’m her comforter.  I’m her best friend.  I’m the only one she can talk to.

    The man in red loves Sam, also.

    However, he loves Sam in a very different way than I love her.  The things he does to her once the lights go out … it makes me want to tear myself to shreds.  The squeals, the moans … the cries.  It makes me want to vomit the stuffing out of my brown furry stomach.  No matter how hard I squeeze my paws against my ears it never blocks out the sound of misery.  Oh how I dread it so.  And then in the morning she hugs and cries into my stitching, wishing for a better life.  Wishing for the courage to confess her father’s monstrosity to her oblivious mother. 

    Of course, I cannot speak -- my makers didn’t exactly bother to program me with a voice.  But, that is what the alphabet blocks are for.  Luckily, my dear Sam is a bright child and she understands the English language and how to read it.  Oh, she is very smart for her age, but a scared child, nonetheless.  I tell her everything will be okay, and at first, she believes me, but then as the months slowly roll by and the raping and beatings grow worse, her eyes show lost hope.  She is on the verge of being completely lost forever.  Her body would remain her father’s puppet, but inside her soul would be demolished.

    One gloomy night we are having a very emotional conversation about running away.  She tells me how she wants to pack her backpack and just leave this Godforsaken place.  Sam says she just wants to live as far away from this house as possible.  Only me and her, that’s how she wants it to be.  But, we are soon interrupted by the bedroom door swinging open -- the doorknob collapsing through drywall on impact.  There he stands, all six feet and two hundred pounds of him.  Particles of alcohol are clearly visible along the surface of his lumberjack beard.  He is wearing the same stained red sweater that he always wears.  He’s a monster.  He’s the man in red.

    Sam springs to her feet and pointing an accusing finger at him, declares, “No!  No more, daddy!  I’m sick of it.  Leave me alone!  Me and Teddy are running away forever and ever and we‘re gonna be happy!”

    Sighing, the man in red backhands her across the face and sends Sam soaring across the bed.  “Shut up,” he mutters, slowly unbuckling his belt.

    If I were human, I would probably cry right now.  For nearly three years, I’ve sat in the corner with the shadows while this tyrant performed all these unnatural acts upon my sweet, sweet Sam.  And what I have done?  Absolutely nothing, that’s what.  Why?  Why haven’t I tried to stop anything?  I always tell myself I’m not strong enough.  I’m just a small little toy, and he’s basically the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk.  It wouldn’t even be a fight at all.  He’d just tear me to ribbons.  It’s so unfair!  Why did they have to make me so damn tiny?  If only I was bigger, then maybe I could help Sammy.  But no, I’m too small.  Therefore, she must delve upon this harrowing agony for another night once again.  Oh how I hate it so.

    The sound of loose change swishing around fills my eardrums as the man in red hastily kicks his jeans aside and begins to carefully lean down upon the bed.  It’s only a matter of time now until I hear the screams again.  Why can’t Sam’s mommy be home?  This would not be happening if she didn’t always work the blasted graveyard shift.

    “Teddy!” Sam suddenly squeals.  “Teddy, please don’t let him hurt me again.  Help me!  Please help!”

    What am I supposed to do to that?  I am just a damn teddy bear.  I’m nothing.  I’m just here to cheer up a sad child, not stop a six-foot behemoth.  I pound my paws against the linoleum underneath me.  This is so unfair!  Why do humans have to be so goddamn malice?  I leap to my feet and squinting my eyes, I quickly scavenge the dim, obscure room.  How am I supposed to stop this guy?  I can’t very well tap him on the foot and ask him to move along, now can I?

    I notice that I am scratching my head and I wonder why.  I don’t feel anything -- well, I have emotions, but I do not feel physical pain in the least bit.  As I move my paw away, my button eyes come across a useful tool.  Resting under the dresser lays a small, thin metal pole with a white, plastic handle constructed towards the bottom.  The other half being sharp as a knife.  It’s ole mommy’s nail filer.  Perfect! 

    I quickly wobble across the room and grasp it between my paws.  Now, the next challenge: must find a way to reach the top of the bed.  Well, this obstacle seems fairly easy enough.  I grind my teeth against the blade and wrap my furry lips around the metal.  I leap up onto the hanging bed sheet and begin the climb of a century.  I feel like Rambo from that movie I saw with my previous master some decades ago.  I am like a soldier, slowly climbing my way to the finish line.

    “Teeeeeddy!” Sam screams, which quickens my pace.  I’m coming, Sammy, I’m coming.  I reach the top and discover the horrors of humanity.  I try to ignore it as I grab the nail filer from out of my mouth.  Gripping it tightly between both paws, I raise it above my head.  Where should I strike?  Sam’s cries make me come to a quick decision.  I swing my arms down and the tip of the blade plunges through the sole of his foot, resulting with the man in red shrieking in bewilderment.  Confused, he spins off of Sam and collapses upon the floor.  Now’s my only chance before he becomes fully aware of my presence.  I dive off the mattress with the nail filer held out before me, landing on his chest with the blade stabbing through the skin.  I roughly jerk it out and stab him again.  The man in red tilts his head upwards to discover me.  His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

    “What the hell …?” he whispers.

    I don’t give him any more time to talk, though.  Vaulting like a samurai, I swipe the nail filer through his left cheek and into his tongue.  He’s like a fish with a hook stuck in its jaw.  Priceless moments, yet suitable actions for such a despicable flab of evil.  I lean all my weight on the handle, pushing the nail filer deeper into his throat.  The man in red gurgles blood like a witch’s cauldron, splattering it upon my fur.  I tug it out of his face and elevate it above my head once again.  This is for Sammy, you bastard.  The nail filer annihilates his eyeball and stops halfway through his corrupted brain.

    I make an inaudible sigh and climb back on top of the bed.  I make one last glance down towards the lifeless corpse lying on the floor.  So, this is it.  I have succumbed to the rest of the humans.  I am now a murderer.  No, not a murderer.  Even Zeus himself would have granted this mercy killing.  However, what am I?  I am Sam’s, that is what I am.  So, is this justice?  Nope, not nearly.  But it’s close enough.

    It takes some work, but I manage to help cover Sam’s exposed parts.  She’s still shaking, hiccupping invisible cries with tears leaping like tiny frogs from her eyelids.  She hugs me tightly against her chest.  I wish I could talk, because if I could I would tell her everything is going to be all right.  This time I wouldn’t be lying.  Everything will be all right, Sammy.  I am here for you.

    Forever and ever.
*********

    Lightning crashes from outside my window, shaking me awake immediately.  Instead of sitting up, though, I choose to remain lying on my bed.  I don’t want to make any noise.  Maybe if I close my eyes long enough I’ll just fall asleep again.  I’ve done it before, so I can do it again.

    After nearly five minutes with my eyes closed I realize that sleep will not be returning to me as fast as I would like.  So, I carefully sit up and wipe hair and sweat out of my eyes.  I contemplate over the dream I was having before the thunder storm awoken me.  I’ve had it plenty of times.  It’s the best part of my day.  The recurring dream … it always brings me hope.  Maybe one day my fantasy will merge with my reality.  Just maybe, one day my savior will come knocking on the front door.  They’ll take me away to a new home, a better place.  Or, maybe there’s a way I can just go to sleep and never wake up again.  That way Teddy and I can run away together and live happily ever after once and for all.  Oh wouldn’t that be nice!

    This puts a smile across my face as I turn on my side, hoping for sleep to come sweep me away back into fantasyland.  Teddy lies on his back next to my face, staring into my eyes.  He’s such a good friend.  He would do anything for me, you know.  I kiss his furry cheek and close my eyes, feeling the sandman on his way.

    However, the man who is quietly walking through my bedroom door and unbuckling his pants is not the sandman.