It was hard being a mother. I felt that more and more each day. Hard to be patient, hard to understand, hard to be unbiased, and sometimes, hard to love. It’s wrong of me to think that, but it’s the truth. I try so hard; God knows I do!
From the time I wake up, till the time I fall asleep, all I think about are my children. I love my girls, I love them so much, but I cannot ignore it anymore, something is wrong with Emma. It’s been wrong for a long time now. I have been trying my best to live with it, but each day, it just becomes more… visible. And I can recall the very moment it had started, that damned fire! If only John had listened if only he’d come earlier… but I knew I was being unfair, how would he have known?
It was as though the fire had burned away parts of my daughter too, my sweet, bubbly child had turned into this quiet, cold, and distant person that I hardly knew anymore. Somedays I can feel her watching me and she feels almost sinister in her gaze. As though she’s thinking something… planning, and it makes my skin crawl.
I know I am being absurd but that’s how it feels! And that wretched toy she carries around-! That awful, stuffed bunny! I have tried to take it away from her but it’s of no use, and I don’t want to cause her more harm or upset her, but I feel helpless now. I am losing my little angel and I feel there’s nothing I can do.
All I can do is hope that this trip gives me the time I need to get through to her because I know my cheerful, little angel is in there somewhere and I am determined to find her.
…
“Breakfast girls! Come down to eat!” John yelled as I set poured the orange juice and tidied up the counter. A pre-cooked meal would have been helpful, but I didn’t want anyone else in here, this gave me and John some quiet time together. I knew he was worried about Emma too.
“We are coming down!” Grace called out as she thundered down the steps.
“Easy, Grace. You’ll get hurt!” I snapped as she came to a standstill near the table while Emma followed at a calmer pace, Mr. Bunny clutched firmly in her hands.
“No patience this one.” John joked as he sat in his chair and began eating. Grace kept up a steady stream of chatter, talking about everything under the sun as she munched away happily at her pancakes. But Emma as usual was quiet, just picking at her food, not eating.
“Everything alright Emma?” I asked her, “Are the pancakes not good? Do you want something else?”
“No, they are fine. Just not that hungry.” She murmured, her head low.
“Emma, you skipped dinner as well. You can’t stop eating, it’s bad for you. Do you want to go see the doctor?” John asked, looking concerned.
“Dad. I am fine.” She hissed, looking angry.
“Don’t talk to dad like that!” Grace snapped back.
“Shut up, Grace!” Emma yelled back.
“Or what? You’ll stare at me?”
“You’re a bitch!”
“Emma!” I gasped, what was wrong with her?
“Emma that’s enough!” John called out, “You do not speak to anyone like that.”
Emma looked at all of us furiously, accusingly.
“You only care about her. You never listen to me.” She whispered as she looked at us, she looked so small, my daughter.
“Emma…” I called out softly, reaching out to her. She looked up at me, and for a moment I saw her, my lonely little girl, but she shook herself out of it, and it was gone.
“I am going to my room.” She muttered and left.
“I am going after her,” I said and was almost out of my chair when John stopped me.
“No, wait. Leave her to it, she was wrong, and she needs to understand that.” He said, looking upset as he continued, “I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately, but we cannot keep encouraging her bad behavior this way.”
“All she does is talk to that stupid toy.” Grace huffed as she sat back down in her chair.
“Which toy?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“That stupid bunny toy. She hardly does anything else anymore. She even sleeps with it! I told her I’ll share my toys with her, but she only wants that one, and it doesn’t even do anything.” Grace pouted and went back to her food.
John and I looked at each other, both of us thinking the same thing.
Mr. Bunny had to go.
…
We decided to take Mr. Bunny away from her while she was asleep. I never realized how horrible the result of this decision was going to be. I just wanted Emma to get better.
…
It was around 9:00 pm, and John and I waited in uncomfortable silence, taking turns looking at the clock for the perfect moment to sneak into Emma’s room and get that wretched toy away from her.
We had given the girls dinner early and had sent them up stating that we wanted to take them out camping in the nearby woods early tomorrow. Grace had been all smiles as she had raced up to her bed, but Emma looked as disinterested as ever.
“It’s 9:30,” John whispered as he looked at me nervously.
“…ok, ok, yes let’s go,” I replied, feeling equally doubtful about our plan. There were so many things that could go wrong; what if we made it worse?
No, no, no, this had to be done. This will shake Emma out of whatever trance she was in and help her notice the things around her. We are her parents, and we need to look out for her.
“Do you think this is a bad idea? What if we are wrong?” John echoed my thoughts.
“John, do we have any other way? Sure, she will throw a tantrum or two, but we need to try at least.” I pleaded with him.
“Ok, alright. Let’s do this.” He said, looking determined.
…
We made our way up the stairs toward Emma’s room, trying not to make a single sound. Her room was down the corridor, the farthest one from the rest of the rooms. For some reason all the lights were turned off, making it difficult for us to reach the door.
John turned on the flashlight in his phone, lighting up the hallway dimly. We reached the door and I rested my hand gingerly on the doorknob and looked over at John who squeezed my shoulder supportively.
Sighing, I gently opened the door. It was pitch black inside.
“Isn’t she scared of the dark?” I whispered to John.
“…I uh…yea she was.” He replied, sounding as lost as me.
We crept inside the room, trying to be as quiet as possible. Finally, we made it to the bed and peered at Emma, half expecting her to be awake and looking at us disinterestedly, but she was fast asleep. All curled up and tucked in, she looked just like my little girl but there it was, clutched firmly in her arms, Mr. Bunny.
“Doesn’t it look like it’s staring at us?” John asked me, looking a little spooked.
“Don’t be ridiculous John! It’s just a toy.” I whispered angrily, feeling a little cold myself.
We edged closer and I gently pried open Emma’s arm just as John quickly pulled away Mr. Bunny. John pulled me back so quickly that I almost stumbled. That’s when I noticed the room seemed to shrink into itself somehow and the temperature quickly dropped. I immediately started freezing as though I was dipped into a tub full of ice, gasping I quickly let go of Emma’s arms. I looked up at John who was staring at the stuffed toy in shock.
“John? John?!” I whispered urgently, trying to break him out of whatever trance he was in.
“I… uh…” He mumbled distractedly. Ignoring his mumblings, I quickly pushed him out the door, shutting it before Emma could wake up.
“John! Snap out of it!” I hissed as we stood in the corridor.
“Anne… does this bunny look weird to you?” John asked in a hushed tone.
“What do you mean? It’s just a toy.” I replied.
“I mean… look, I know it’s going to sound insane but the moment I touched it… I saw blood, so much blood and cold… I felt so cold, and I could have sworn it looked at me! Anne, the bunny looked at me!” He sounded pretty much hysterical at this point.
“John… John, stop. It’s a toy and we were in a dark room; the flashlight must have bounced off of it or something and Emma must have left the window open because even I felt a bit chilly in there.” I explained.
“Yea, that must be it. I must be tired or something.” He reasoned.
“Yea,” I yawned, stretching, and hissing in pain when my arm throbbed.
“What? What’s wrong?” John asked.
“Ugh, looks like you bruised my arm when you pulled me back into Emma’s room.”
“Pulled you? Anne, I didn’t touch you.” John replied quietly.
Both of us looked at Mr. Bunny at the same time. Its eyes seemed almost menacing now. The windows rattled as the wind seemed to pick up and a distant howling sounded.
“Sounds like a storm,” I whispered.
“We should get to bed,” John seemed pale at this point as he clutched the toy gingerly.
“Yea.”
We went into our room and the instant I shut the door; John flung the toy as far as he could behind one of the couches.
“Let’s hope that’s the last of it.” He muttered as he got into bed.
“Yep,” I replied as I followed him and turned off the lights.
The wind howled throughout the night and both of us refused to look in the direction of the toy.
…
White, an expanse of white was what we woke up to the next day. We were buried in snow, in the middle of summer.
“Talk about unseasonal,” John grumbled as he searched for warmer clothing in his bags. “Well, that’s it for camping then, no way we can take the girls out in this condition.”
Sighing, I looked at the clock, 8:00 am. They would be up any minute and from the look of it, they were going to be disappointed, maybe we could do some other fun activity? Make the most of the weather, a snowman perhaps?
Determined to turn this day into a happy one I strode out of the room and that was when I heard a shrill scream.
Looks like Emma had woken up.
