Thursday, June 23, 2011

Never wake the mother bear.


 Hey there =) This week on the Indie Ink Writing Challenge I received my prompt from The Last Astronaut, whose prompt for me was:

"and that's when he dropped the baby."

My response this time might be a bit sad again, so my apologies. I just couldn't help not write this, it wouldn't leave my mind.




Never wake the mother bear

Alexander was looking out the window with a white little teddy bear curled up in his lap — his little sister, dressed in the polar bear onesie he’d chosen, sniffling sleepily in his arms. The morning was foggy, the ground barely in vision as he stared out the sixth storey window, looking for shapes in the clouds to pass the time.

His little bear squirmed, opening one eye from the pale light pouring inside.

“Shhh,” he whispered, placing his finger on his lips. “Mommy’s still sleeping.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, cradling her to his chest. She had started crying a few hours earlier so he’d brought her to the window after piling up books on the floor to be able to snatch her up from her crib. 

He looked over his shoulder to find his mother snoring away at the corner of the room, reclined on his kid-sized, shaped-like-a-panda-about-to-hug-you armchair, a green glass bottle with a long neck placed by her side. She loved those; it always had to be green. His Dad had once brought a clear one and she’d thrown it into the wall.

“You’re going to love her,” he murmured against his polar bear’s cheek, pressing his cold nose to her warm one. “She loves playing hide and seek. And she’ll dance with me, too. Sometimes she’s angry but when she sleeps you’ll love her.”

She raised her head a bit, blowing air through her closed lips, making Alexander chuckle. 

“And she loves bears too,” he murmurs, leaning over to growl against her little tummy.

She shut her eyes tightly, her face turning crimson. She must’ve been hungry.

“No no, Claire. No crying. Do you want me to get your bottle?”

A little sound escaped from his baby sister.

“Let’s go, Claire Bear.”

He smiled, hopping off the windowsill, tiptoeing towards the door. He glanced at his Mommy, crouching down to move the green bottle with the long neck. She stirred from the quiet screech on the floor, her head dropping to one shoulder. It would be hours at least till she was close to waking up. 

He held Claire close, shushing her cries, starting to hum the song his mother would play on the piano. The hall was full of scattered clothes and various items, hairbrushes, green bottles, soda cans. He kept lifting his knees up high, going through the daily obstacle course, his arms growing tired of clutching his little bear to his warm chest. He pressed his cheek to hers, trying to soothe her quiet yelps, her cheek hot from hunger. 

He looked up to find the kitchen chairs lying on their sides on the floor, blocking his way to the refrigerator. He drew his tongue over his upper lip to concentrate, holding Claire up while trying to get over the chairs. He pulled his leg upward from the other side of the second chair but it wouldn’t move. He switched Claire to one arm, holding her to his shoulder as he leaned down. His pajama pants were stuck on a nail. 

“Hold on, Claire Bear,” he murmured, pulling at the fabric.

It came off suddenly, causing him to tip over to his back, making Claire slip from his arms and to the carpeted floor in a muted thud, his baby bear growling out in pain. She started crying loudly, her face hot and red, her little arms and legs squirming helplessly in the air.

Alexander crawled to her, cradling her close. “Shhh,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “I got you. You’re okay.” 

He held her close but she wouldn’t stop crying, the high-pitched wails echoing back from the empty walls. He could hear his mother’s footsteps down the hall, making him hold Claire closer to his face, her forehead pressed to his cheek. 


12 Comments So Far:

  1. So young with such a burden to bear. Beautiful story.

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  3. Oh no that was so sad!!! But it was an amazing post! Thank you!

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  4. Thanks =) And I'm sorry it's sad. I'll write something positive next! *hugs*

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  5. Wow, what a responsible and caring big brother he is and how sad that he must take on such responsibility at such a young age. A sad tale, yes, but very well told!

    Stopping by from TRDC.

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  6. A beautifully written tale of a very sad story.

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  7. This is sad indeed. But, the love of the big brother is so sweet. This is really well done, Lilu!

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  8. This reminds me of my mom. This breaks my heart thinking of the trouble they are both going to be in. Beautifully written.

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  9. Beautiful, fluid writing - what a sad tale.

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