I propped it up and stared at its cuddly face. I could feel any dread dissipating as I looked at it, like it was trying to invite me to give in. But I tried to shake it off and laid the bear back away from me, turning it so the eyes weren’t facing me. This thing was probably cursed and it only started as something that appeared nice. There’s no way there wasn’t some sort of catch. 

I tossed it into the small closet, watching it helplessly hit the wall and thunk onto the floor face down. I thought about going to prop it back up, but I didn’t want to mess with it any longer, so I shut the door. I’d ignore it and see what happens. Maybe I’d wake up and realize this was all just a weird dream or trip. 

But the first things to return were the usual throbbing headache and my stomach sloshing back and forth with intermittent cramps. I was so used to these sensations before, but after the previous couple of moments, they were awful by comparison. I didn’t realize how good it was. I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t have the urge to grab it again, but I wasn’t going to. The pain would lessen.

Fuck. That’s why I didn’t want that shit. Now I’m going to have to get used to this again.

My eyes widened as I remembered that work was something that actually existed. I shuffled over to the couch and picked up my phone, which was almost dead, to see that it was 10:00 in the morning. I apparently slept so well last night that I didn’t even wake up for work on time. Normally I only got 4 hours of sleep at night, if I was lucky, and pretty much always woke up at the right time because of that. But now I had straight up missed it. I let out a scalding groan as a twinge of anger hit me and bit my lip to try and stop myself from bashing my head in. If this bear was trying to get me to commit some sort of painful, violent act towards it, then it was working. Maybe the real curse was driving people to homicide. And now I had to go work at my shitty job, which I could possibly now get fired from. I couldn’t even try to lie about being sick like a lazy teenager, because obviously they would just fire me, if they weren’t planning on it already. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this was the last strike.

I hurried my way through a quick shower, which was the only thing I could shove into my late morning, and drove my way to work through the busy streets. I had already lost multiple jobs before this, so it wouldn’t be too much of an upsetting surprise, but trying to find another would be difficult. I already had another one going on alongside this one.

But as I stepped into the deafening restaurant and started sweeping after clocking in, the manager didn’t ask me anything about my being late. Maybe it was because my cleaning job wasn’t that big of a loss or something, but it was strange how he didn’t comment on it at all. He was definitely the type of guy to freak out over nothing, so I wasn’t sure what the sudden flippancy was about. I started to have increasing unsettling feelings as I swept in the musty backroom next to boxes and shelves, unsure if all this was better or worse than normal. Definitely worse, actually. I didn’t want to figure out I was losing it or something.

But I couldn’t get myself to care about any of this any longer, and let myself move on autopilot for the rest of the day. It was too tiring to think this much for one day. Or even for a week, I’d shoot for a month, even. The weird bear was in my closet and the guy ignored me, who cares. That was a benefit for me, really. The urge to take another drag got to me with a shudder as I was wiping down some tables at break time, so I stepped outside for a quick smoking break.

I got back home a few hours later and flopped down on my couch. But as I slumped my head back on the sofa arm, I went into a harsh coughing fit for two long minutes, struggling to suck in any breath, while hunched over to cover my mouth. Every swallow afterward was awful as the spit slid down my scraped throat, and my stomach was still trying to get me to hurl. It was so consistent, it was impressive, really. After hacking a couple more times for good measure, and choking up more spit, all that was left was a headache. I tried to remember what drugs were left in my room. It was only weed, molly and some heroin, although I couldn’t remember where exactly that last one was.

Before I did anything, I wanted to grab a couple more blankets and make sure the doors were locked tight. But I opened the door to see the forgotten bear laying sprawled out face-down with its dress crinkled, next to a pile of dirty clothes. I had kind of chucked it in there with no regard for how fragile it might’ve been. It was kind of sad. I’m not sure why it upset me so much, and it was entirely irrational to feel. But I couldn’t shake it off.

I picked it up to, at the very least, rearrange it into the proper position. Even propping it up and touching the soft fur made my hands tingle with warmth. I stopped in place, my knees scratching against the rough floor. Just for a second, I thought that maybe I should just use it. I obviously wasn’t planning on it, but there was no better option, was there? It was kind of pathetic to give up so easily. But the fuzz touching my cold fingers and its happy, lovable face made me reconsider. It was hard to resist the thoughts flowing in and out of my head telling me to do it. It really wanted to lure me in and shank me, huh? But I made the brazen decision to try it for a little while. Only a little. I didn’t want to sit and dwindle on this any longer. Hopefully this one came without an insanely depressive crash afterwards. It wasn’t any riskier than usual, probably.

I sat it down on the couch next to me, letting it fall over, and pulled out my phone. The energy field of magic or whatever the hell worked even when not holding it. I tried to scroll through Reddit on my phone without thinking too hard, but I couldn’t stop speculating about this weird toy. Honestly, it was such an odd feeling, to feel so… alright. It’s not like I had the urge to get up and find the cure for cancer or some shit, but I didn’t feel like I wanted to puke, so that was pretty cool. I hadn’t had a lick of good sleep in a while, but instead of wasting time on my phone… Maybe, just maybe, I could finally get a good nap in. Now that’s the dream right there. I checked for any more obnoxious messages, but there were none, and played a random movie that had been halfway finished. My eyes could barely stay open for the first five minutes after laying my head down, and I didn’t even have a blanket- the bear was like a warm blanket all by itself. 

Not a single urge dragged me up from bed to smoke, and any discomfort throughout my body was plain gone. There was no more twisting or turning, no more coughing or vomiting, just… nothing. My sleep was deeper than ever before and wasn’t infiltrated by crazy dreams scaring me awake. 

I awoke once more to a gentle silence that tried to lull me right back to sleep and slipped out my phone to see that it was now already the next day, at 8:00 in the morning. Huh. I sat up to look over the bear that was still flopped backwards beside me, staring up at me like it was innocent and completely unassuming. This was a strange toy, this thing. I plucked it up by the sides and stared at it yet again for answers, or maybe to see if his face was beaming with joy. It was. Maybe I should’ve given the guy a little more credit. Maybe. I didn’t want to make any insane praise for it yet, in case it throws me in the closet for revenge. I propped it back up and stood up to change into my uniform and new clothes. Normally I wouldn’t be motivated, but I had a little more patience today. Maybe if I was feeling even better, I’d take my dirty clothes to the laundromat. But let's not get ahead of ourselves here.

I trudged through work like usual after I’d sat staring at the bear like my life depended on it. It didn’t appear that it did much to motivate me when I was away- the relief didn’t last longer than the car drive there. But I wouldn’t be caught dead trying to sneak that thing in with me. Not that my normal behavior was a large improvement to towing around a stuffed animal in my hands, but I had to draw the line somewhere. The entire time I worked, it was hard to believe I really had an antidote at home that could just make me feel like that. Make me feel okay. I always suspected the whole time that the bear would vanish and that none of this would have even happened in the end.

As soon as I opened the door, I sat my ass right down next to it and was ready to get another round of peaceful sleep. It’s all I wanted to do at this point- as long as I could do it on repeat over and over, everything would be great. The only annoying thing was trying to eat and basic hygiene. Like I’ve said, I could only eat soft foods or take small bites, otherwise my teeth would shatter. Even when I got through that, the food felt like it was clumping as it went down, and then would just sit in my chest, suffocating it with indigestible chunks. 

But after my good, long nap, I decided to tow the bear with me to the table to try and help me eat. Maybe it would work for that, right? I often was too tired to eat much, but thinking about the meals I could eat motivated me somewhat, if this actually ended up working. I hadn’t had a good strawberry cupcake in a long-ass time. That’s not really a meal, but, whatever. My point is that any food I once liked was ruined for me, but maybe not anymore. Pastries aren’t as fun to eat when you feel you might vomit after the first three great bites. And then even if you can swallow it, you’re nauseous the rest of the day.

I sat the bear beside my chair and pulled out some leftover ramen that I got sick halfway through eating before. It was one of the worst examples I’d cultivated where I had to hold it in my mouth for ages or spit out most of it in fear of it not going down. My shuddering fingers spun the cool metal fork and twirled some noodles around it, a few dangling off. I sifted them into my mouth, and swallowed hard to make sure I didn’t gag them back up. I was ready to be disappointed, or choke, or choke and be disappointed, but it was actually okay. It sat in my stomach somewhat comfortably, no clumping in my chest, and there was no backwash. The noodles tasted a bit stale, obviously, but it didn’t hurt as bad to swallow it, my throat only being somewhat scratchy. 

Wow, truly a miracle on earth.

But the fact that I could tell they were even stale at all was insane to me. I wouldn’t be able to have figured that out before. I swiped a beer from the fridge and took a swift sip, my lips touching the chill aluminum. It was okay. About as good as dollar store beer is. But either way, it was weird. My taste was so thorough now. Or probably just the bare minimum, but for me, it was shocking. I felt that I was able to become a number 1 superhero for being able to swallow a few noodles. I finished off all the noodles in the bowl, licking the broth off of my lips afterward. I kind of wanted to go on a shopping trip, but that would imply I had to leave my house, which was a bit of an inconvenience. So maybe not. But the noodles were good enough for what I had at home.

I brought the bear over to the mostly barren balcony and sat outside in the wooden chair for the first time in a while. I made sure to obscure the bear from view behind the seat. I hadn’t decorated this place at all, because I knew I would trash it. And for some reason, it always just made me more depressed thinking of how any cosmetic change would deteriorate over time. The sky was clear and bright, almost stinging my eyes, only a few small clouds passing by to hide the sun. The loud wind outside blew against my face, cooling me off and blowing some of my greasy hair. I started to have a sneaking feeling of regret, but I continued to stay put for some reason. Looking out on the occasional car that whizzed down the long gray road by the parking lot gave me an off putting feeling of loneliness. Past the road was a bright green field with a few trees, leading to a park, where I could see some people living their lives.

There was a lump growing in the back of my throat, too big to swallow, as everything outside grew piercing. The searing sky was scalding my eyes, the horrible, earsplitting rambling of the world was blaring in my ears only growing stronger, and the grim, awful sight of happy people existing comfortably- the suffocating stitch wrangling my chest was too strong to be blocked by the bear’s magic. A feeling of humiliation was shot at me like a dagger, making me feel exposed and disgusting. I wanted to tear my hair out for even thinking of coming out here. With a long sigh, I trudged back inside and slammed the door. Just listening to and looking at people made me feel... I don’t know. I couldn’t identify it. I’m not sure what it was, but it was uncomfortable. At work, I managed to drive all that out, but I couldn’t do that here. My mind would always yank me back to those feelings whenever I sat out there.

I rushed back to my couch, tossing the bear next to me, and started scrolling through my phone. The same calm descended back upon me after laying for a little while, all the discomfort floating away from my mind, until I found that the text messages from my friends were never replied to. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to go out with them yet or talk at all, even if it was undeniable that I was feeling much better. But a spurt of motivation to text hit me, so I managed to say that I didn’t feel like it to the one asking me to hang out and was able to continue a bit of the other conversation. I didn’t get very far before getting bored, but it was better than nothing. It was surprising he was there to chat all day, or that’s what it felt like, at least. He wanted me to join for some gaming tournament, but I couldn’t have thought about anything less appealing. He was a good friend, though… I would think about it later.