Teddybears | Teen Ink

Teddybears

June 3, 2011
By Hannah Hyatt SILVER, Park City, Utah
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Hannah Hyatt SILVER, Park City, Utah
8 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I’m running, that’s the last thing I remember. I could hear voices yelling loudly in my direction. I look down and in my hand I am holding something. I don’t know why I have it. I turn into an alley and slip, I slide into a wall and hit my head.

Prague, Czechoslovakia in 1988 is where it all began. I sit on my sheet in the basement where I live with my two older brothers and one little sister, Kamila. I sit with my little sister playing with her favorite toy, her teddybear. It is the last thing our parents gave her when they died. Our parents died in a car accident a year ago and since then my older brothers have been taking care of us.

Every night we come home from where we were all day and we all sit together and have supper. That was when the whole family was with each other. After supper, Kamila and I go play with anything we can find in the basement. Kamila is never allowed to leave the basement alone, she is too little and will get hurt. My brothers are always out trying to find jobs and food so that we can move out of the basement and into a house, so they asked me to make sure Kamila is safe at all times. I am always holding her hand and keeping her safe.

When I go outside there is this guy standing across the street from us every time and is looking right at us. He wears a long, black trench coat and a top hat. When I walk out of the house he quickly looks down or away. I didn’t tell anyone about it because it didn’t seem very important. I had seen this man when I went to school, he said he was a janitor but he would watch everything Kamila and I would do. He seemed to know everything about us.

Kamila and I stroll across the Charles Bridge to investigate the castle. I have always liked the castle and admired it for its lovely carvings and spectacular architecture. I dream about living there, getting served by maids in crisply-starched uniforms, spending money freely on all the toy trucks I could imagine, and doing anything I want with no worries of getting in trouble. Sadly, I will never be able to live there, so it must remain a dream. Kamila says that there are millions and millions of teddy bears in the castle, and that’s the only reason she would want to live there. My brothers say that they are happy where we live and don’t want to change anything, but I think that they secretly are dying to dwell in such a place. When Kamila and I get to the castle, we sit by a fountain outside of it and just scrutinize every detail that is carved into the walls.

While we are sitting on a step, the old man comes up behind us and taps me on the shoulder. He speaks in a deep baritone: “You kids shouldn’t be here alone; this is the place where you could get into a lot of trouble.”

At first we got scared because we didn’t know him well, but then we got even more scared when he suggested, “Let me give you a ride home.”

Kamila clutched my hand as tightly as she could, which is her trying to say this wasn’t a good idea. The old man reminded us that we were expected home before 6:00 p.m. We looked at each other, uncomfortable in the fact that he knew this about our private lives.

We agreed with hesitation.

That’s why he did end up driving us home, but what scared us the most was that he knew exactly where we lived. He even told us to have a great dinner, and that it was time for dinner; he knew everything.

There was no conversation at supper which wasn’t normal. We would normally banter on about everything that had happened that day. But my brothers didn’t touch their food at all; that was very strange too. They told me and Kamila to go to where we slept, and we did as we were told so they wouldn’t get psychotic.

It was very quiet for a while, but then we started to hear yelling and things breaking and splintering from hitting the floor and the walls. Kamila got really scared and didn’t know what was happening, so she starting crying; and I had to run to get my brothers to help her stop. I walked into where we had earlier eaten supper, and gasped when I saw the carnage of all of our glasses and plates broken on the floor.

One of my brothers, Alexandr, was standing, silently looking at me. The other brother, Havel, was on the floor, eyes wide and frightened, looking as if he were about to weep. I asked what was going on, but neither would tell me, they just kept stubbornly quiet. I knew that I was old enough to be included in what was going on, but they didn’t seem to think so. I begged and begged to try and get it out of them. It took me a long time to even get them to speak, but they finally told me.

A man wearing a long, black trench coat with a top hat marched up to Alexandr and notified him that he and his family was going to be killed. He failed to advise him why we were going to get killed so Havel started getting deranged, breaking and throwing things onto the floor.

After they had told me this, I sprinted and got Kamila. I didn’t intend on telling her what Alexandr and Havel told me because she was too young. I started packing everything we owned, which wasn’t much, into big paper bags that I had found on the street once. Kamila didn’t help, she just sat alone with her teddy bear watching.

A while after we started packing our things, there was a lot of noise outside. I gazed out the window to see what was going on. Standing tall with their chin up, hands behind their back, lined in perfect order without a sound, officers surrounded our basement waiting for their orders.

Alexandr and Havel flung open the door, picked up the bags and told us to stay right behind them. Of course I was too fixated on the officers to listen to my brothers. With Kamila tugging on my hand leading toward the door, I hear a distant BOOM.

I grabbed Kamila and dove behind sandbags and before I knew it the whole basement was collapsing. I looked over at Kamila afraid it will be the last time I will ever see her face again. The top floor of the basement fell onto my head.

I can’t remember anything. I am so confused where I am. There are pieces of wood on my head and as soon as I stand up, I fall right back down. My head had been wounded very badly, and when I tried to get up again, I kept falling.

There was something under a big piece of wood next to me. It was brown and soft. I tried to pull it out but it was stuck under the wood. I thought real hard on where I was last, and what was happening, but I simply just could not remember a thing.

I was all alone in this room with no roof, wood all over the floor, and dust flying everywhere. Fear began to take over. It was very cold and there was no food. I felt like I hadn’t ate for days.

I struggled out from under the wood that was on top of me and walked out onto the streets. The bright sun light appeared from behind the mountains and shined on me.

Walking down the Skoda Spartak street, the air fills with smells of different bakeries. I could only smell one though. Vesecky’s bakery! All they had in that bakery was made with cinnamon; every loaf of bread was cinnamon bread. And they make the bread right in the bakery so when you walked down the streets, you could smell it from miles away.

Every fume of the cinnamon went right through one nostril and out the other, and circled, in and out, in and out. I twirled in circles with the cinnamon air around me and made people start to stare. I didn’t care though, they didn’t get to enjoy the magnificence of it all.

I soon found myself in the bakery, surrounded with different breads and pastries, I plunged my hands into my pockets hoping, with excitement, to pull out a krone. I envisioned giving that krone to the man at the front, and in return, he would give me a loaf of bread. Oh! That smell of warm, toasted, cinnamon, added with melted butter! The look on people’s faces when they took a long whiff of the wonder in their hands!

I plunged my hands into my pockets. I pulled out nothing.

I was starving to the point I would steal anything in the store. I looked around at everyone and they are all fixated on the bread loafs in their hands; they would never know that I did it.

I waited for the perfect moment, when nobody was watching. I quickly snatched a loaf of bread and sprinted out the door.

Not one person saw me.

I ran to this new place that I had seen on the way to the bakery. It was a cellar. The cellar of a fine wine store.

I slowly opened the bag of bread, and just smelt it. I smelt it for a long time and did not eat it. Just the smell satisfies me. I smelt and smelt until I felt like I was going to pass out because of it.

Then I entered this room, this dark, dark room. I couldn’t see anything. I walked as slowly as I can, not wanting to trip over anything, and I gave the loaf of bread to someone. I could feel the hands grab onto the bag and take it out of my hands. But I could not see who it was.

The lights turned on.

I could see the person in the room. I remember that I had seen this person before but I did not know who it was. They asked me a question. “Why are you helping me?”

“I do not know.” I said with a little of confusion.

This person signaled me to sit down. She had a table set up with napkins and everything. It’s like they knew I would be coming.

I sat down and we both ate the bread. There were different toppings to go on the bread. I tried every one of them, they all tasted very different. The person tried all of them too.

This person really liked to talk. They talked about how they got here, in the cellar, and what their past was. They asked me about my past but as I opened my mouth, nothing came out. I didn’t remember anything about my past. I didn’t even remember how I got to the cellar. The person’s face had a confused look, like it was unusual that I couldn’t remember anything.

We both decided that it was getting late, so we got ourselves into bed. I laid on the ground trying to remember my past, my family. But I simply couldn’t remember one thing about it. I barely knew who I was.

The next morning came and as the sun light shined upon my face through the non-tinted window, I awoke.

Out of the cellar I went, I strolled down the lonely morning streets and walked towards this park. I looked at the park and saw that no other children were there. I had the whole park to myself.

Running from one slide to the next, sliding down as fast as I could then doing it again, and again. Swinging as high as I could then jumping off and running to the next thing. Tripping over wood and scraping my knees, but getting back up and still running as fast as I could.

Suddenly I heard a bell. This loud, screeching, annoying bell enterd right into my ears. Quickly I looked over at doors, and in a split second it seemed like millions of children scurried out of them, screaming like tortured animals. The sounds went in and out of my eardrums making me fall to the ground and cover my ears as tightly as I could. It wouldn’t go away. It got louder and louder the more they approached me. All of the footsteps pounding to the ground, lifting from the ground, and pounding them again, mixed with the screams of their voices made me scream.

Then all of the screams and the footsteps abruptly stopped. Slowly I pulled my head up to see what I had done. All of the kids stood in a large clump, staring down right at me. They had confused looks on their face, they didn’t understand why I had screamed. I didn’t either. I found myself on the ground of the park not knowing why I was there.

I stood up and started to walk away from all of the children, and the park. Oh, how I would miss that park, thinking about all of the slides I could have slid down, but didn’t get the chance to.

I walked out onto the street and started strolling up and down it. Walking calmly I stuck my hands into my pockets, upset that there was nothing in them, thinking about how I always pulled out something magical and new and creative. But this time, I pulled out nothing but the inside liner.

I approached a fruit store. Wandering in you can smell the distinct sent of each and every fruit; oranges, strawberries, bananas, all in the same place mixed and matched, blended all together. I wanted to have all of the fruit right then! The thought of having all of that fruit collide with each other in my mouth, then swallowing it down my throat made me so hungry.



I thought to myself about stealing it, but I could never steal. Stealing is for bad people who are desperate. I had never stolen anything before, I couldn’t start then because I wanted fruit. But the smell was going to make me collapse if I didn’t have a taste.

I waited for the perfect moment, when no one was watching. I quickly snatched a bag of fruit and sprinted out the door.

Not one person saw me.

I dashed back to the place where I had woken up that morning and quickly locked the door. I almost gobbled down all of the fruit in one second but then I saw this door. I forgot about the fruits that were in my hands and just walked towards the door.

Then I entered this room, this dark, dark room. I couldn’t see anything at all. I walked as slowly as I can not wanting to trip over anything, and I gave the fruit to someone. I could feel the hands grab onto the bag and take it out of my hands. But I could not see who it was.

The lights turned on.

I could see the person in the room. I remembered that I had seen this person before but I did not know who it was.

They say my name, “Hi Jakima, ooh! You brought fruit today!”

I stood in the doorway looking very confused on how this person knew my name. I didn’t know who the person was, so how could they know who I was?

I started walking towards them, but I wasn’t meaning to. I couldn’t help myself and I handed the fruit to them. It seemed like they were making me move towards them and give them the fruit.

This person had a table set up and everything. In the middle of the table, there was a loaf of bread. I asked why there was bread on the table and the person said, “You stole bread yesterday, don’t you remember, and now we have leftovers...”

I didn’t remember stealing anything in my life. I had no clue what they were talking about. That was bizarre, I remembered having bread but not stealing it, but having it in my hands and bringing it to the cellar.

I started remembering bits and pieces of my past. It started with the day before but only some parts of the day, and only the small parts, not any of the big events. Then I lost it and couldn’t remember a thing. I could only remember what happened that day, but I remembered everything I did that day. Except after a few minutes I could only remember half of that day, and no tiny details just big events and scenes. After that all happened I couldn’t remember anything again. But it would recycle and do it again and again. I would remember, then not remember, then remember, and not remember. I hadn’t a clue what was happening to me.

The person was eating the fruit and looked at me odd, decided I wasn’t important and just went back to eating. They offered me some fruit, I was quite hungry so I took the fruit out of their hand, I almost ripped it out I was so hungry. We sat at the table eating fruit and leftover bread, and talked about our favorite toys. That person said that their favorite toy was a teddy bear, and they used to play with it everyday until they lost it. Mine was toy trucks, I had never had one before but always dreamed about playing with one.

After talking about toys we decided to go to sleep because it got late. I walked over to the sheets on the ground that were already set up for me. I laid looking up to the ceiling like I had never seen a ceiling before. I was admired by all of the strands of wood, all going to the same place. I looked up at the cracks in the wood and slowly started to close my eyes. I soon saw the inside of my eyelids instead of the cracks in the ceiling.

When I awoke, I did not awake from the beautiful sunlight beaming into my eyes, I woke up to the the loud pounds and screams from people on the other side of the ceiling. I found a stool and stood on top of it, I looked through the cracks in the ground above me and tried to make out what was going on. I could only hear a few words; kids...stay...no!

A thought started to enter my mind, a thought that the owners of the wine cellar up stairs found out that I was living under them. I heard footsteps stomping down the steps that lead to the cellar. I hid behind a cabinet with lots of wine in it, and looked through a big hole that went straight through both walls. I sat and watched them search the cellar, scared that they will find me.

Something was coming up my throat. I couldn’t stay quiet, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t hold it in. I knew for sure I would be seen after this. I tried to hold it in as long as I could. They are almost up the stairs. But I just had to, I just had to cough.

They quickly turned around, ran down the stairs and went behind the cabinet where I was hiding. They grabbed me by the arm as tight as they could, dragged me up the stairs and out the door. They looked down at me and I looked up at them, and then they slamed the door.

I had hit my head on the gravel when they tossed me out, it took me a while to stand up. When I did stand up I walked really slow. Looked at all the people walking with their families, walking into restaurants, stores, I wished I had a family like that.

I spotted something in a distance. It was a store with a big bear on the top of it. I started walking faster over to it, and start to remember a story about a teddy bear. I soon realized that I was running to the store. And when I walked into the store, there were teddy bears everywhere. I looked to the right, teddy bears, looked to the left, teddy bears, I looked down, there is a teddy bear painted on the floor, and I looked up at the ceiling, and there was another teddy bear painted on the ceiling.

I tried to remember what someone had told me about teddy bears. That they had lost their’s or something. Then it came to me. A little girl had lost her teddy bear in a fire. I didn’t know where I could find the little girl but I was willing to give her back a teddy bear. I definitely did not want to get caught stealing this because then I would never be able to give her a teddy bear.

I made sure that not a single person was watching me. There were many little kids in the store being crazy so none of them would see me. Their parents were trying to calm them down so none of the parents would see me.

I looked around, grabbed a teddy bear, but I did not steal it yet. I just looked at it so it seemed like I was going to buy it. I took one last look around in the store making sure no one was looking in my direction. And I sprinted to the door with a bear in hand and ran as fast as I could.

I entered an ally where I caught site of something that made me slip and fall, and hit my head against the wall. I laid there on the ground, motionless, dead still.

I woke up from water being poured on my head. I couldn’t remember anything and didn’t know where I was. Someone picked me up and started walking with me. My head was hurting, and with every step I took it felt like my head was getting pounded into the ground.

I felt something in my hand, something gripping. The grip felt familiar, like I had held this before.

I slowly rolled my eyes down my arm, scared of what I might meet at the end. But it was not scary, not scary at all. It was tiny. A tiny finger started to wiggle back and forth, trying to get my attention.

Moving my eyes from one hand to the other, this hand was also holding something. I couldn’t quite make out what it was but I saw brown stuffing, and this person was squeezing it as tight as they could. They fliped it around so I could see it and it was a teddy bear.

They tugged on my shirt for me to look down at them. It was a little girl. A little girl holding my hand, grasping on like she was going to fall off a cliff. But this little girl wasn’t just a little girl. This little girl was my little sister, Kamila.



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