Outgrown

I coughed, heaving into my arm as dust entered my lungs. It lingered always. Billowing around me like a lurking monster. Never far away, watching from the corner of my eye. The dust was bad, and the darkness was worse, but the loneliness—that would be my ending. It crawled into my chest slowly, wrapping its arms around me and encompassing me until I was just a remnant of myself, guided only by a measure of hope that one day—no, I couldn’t think of that.

I used to count the hours, then the days, until it didn’t matter anymore. No one was coming for me in this dark, desolate place. I’d been left, abandoned, deemed a useless object.

I leaned back against the wall. Maybe it was time to give up, to gently fade away to whatever comes next. No, I couldn’t give up on her. Even though she’d sent me to this abyss, I could not let go of my affection for her. Maybe there was a reason I couldn’t see or understand.

I shook my head. It was no use letting thoughts like those linger for too long. I had to cling onto hope: that this place wasn’t meant to be my forever.

A grumbling groan sounded from the left. I stiffened, firming myself in expectation. The wind was coming. There was no shelter for me to hide in, only a shivering embrace. The groan turned into a whoosh as blustering wind rushed toward me, surrounding me in gusts of dust that crowded my lungs. I coughed, choking on dust and the torture of my existence.

I squeezed my eyes shut, preventing the dust from stinging, imagining myself in a much different location. A bright place filled with laughter. If I could just hold onto those memories maybe I could last just a bit longer.

My eyelids grew red and I wrenched them open as the brightness of my imagination became a reality.

The light almost blinded me, pulling me from my thoughts.

Light had once been a daily occurrence, but it too had faded to an uncommon sight over the years. It would appear on the horizon for a minute or two before I’d be sent back into darkness. It had been ages since there had been any light, but surely this wouldn’t be any different. My heart hesitated to hope.

A voice. Familiar. It made my heart jump.

That was new. I perked my head; ears tilted forward to listen.

It was her. Anna. Oh, my Anna.

Hope fluttered in my chest. My Anna, my destroyer, and my purpose.

The thought of her had kept me from fading. The memories of being wrapped in her arms as she gently stroked my fur. I remembered our adventures to faraway lands, on spaceships, and battlegrounds. We’d climbed pillow mountain and delved into the far reaches of space, fighting off soldiers in green and creatures built from blocks. I’d learned Kung Fu, became a doctor, an artist, a cook, and a soldier.

Life with Anna had been like living in the clouds.

There had been thunderstorms, of course. Days filled with trickling tears and terrible tantrums (never aimed at me). I’d been there through it all, giving comfort and a soft place to land.

I’d survived vomiting, washing machines, and even a devilish battle with Sadie—the black four-legged beast—who left me stitches wrapped around my arm. As long as Anna was beside me, I knew everything would be okay.

Until one day it had all ended. It wasn’t fully unexpected. Anna stopped carrying me everywhere. My new resting place became her purple pillow, and her bed our sanctuary. Then, my place on her pillow became a memory as I was placed on a shelf overseeing her yellow walls and overflowing bookshelves. But that was okay. I was a surveyor, a protector of her room, carefully stationed and still within reach.

But that ended too, and one day I’d been sent off to the abyss in the back of her closet. Forgotten in darkness, and dust, and the cold air of the vent. Deemed a useless object. No longer a friend, a comfort, a surveyor, or protector.

Just a stuffed bunny shoved in the back of a closet.

Anna’s voice got louder.

“Mom, are you sure it’s in here? You didn’t get rid of him, did you?”

“Anna, of course he’s in there. I told you I’d save him for you.”

An arm reached close. Almost within touching distance. An arm with tan skin and a myriad of freckles, much longer than I remembered.

“Well, I haven’t seen him in ages,” She muttered.

My heart pumped against my fluffy chest, my mind a dizzying array of hope and possibilities.

Her hand brushed against my fur once before stopping in its tracks.

“I found it,” Anna yelled.

Her hand wrapped carefully around my frame as I was finally brought out of the darkness and into the light.

“Oh, Mr. Fluffy, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Joy crashed into my form. Anna had grown. She had crinkles in the corner of her eyes and smile lines framing her lips. Her hair was long and dark with white tinsel flickering throughout.

Anna patted my fur. “It looks like we’ll need to get you cleaned up, you’re covered in dust.”

I bristled at the thought, knowing my next challenge would be the washing machine. But if it meant more time with Anna, I could handle it.

“Mya, there is someone I want to introduce you to,” Anna said.

Large blue eyes stared at me from below.

“This is Mr. Fluffy. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him.”

“For me?” asked a quiet voice.

“Yes, for you, sweetie.”

Small hands pulled me down, and I was encompassed in warmth, love, and a little bit of snot.

I had a new purpose.

I was no longer a useless object but once again a comfort, a friend, a surveyor, and a protector.