Day 18

New week, new prompt! This prompt is once again geared toward essay, but I will try for three fictional pieces again.

Prompt: Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a child. What became of it?


When I was born, my grandma on my father’s side gave me a small stuffed rabbit. It wore a floral print outfit with cute black eyes and a bright pink nose. The white fur was short-cropped and soft, the ears made for absent stroking. As I grew older, I affectionately named the stuffed animal Bunny Bunny.

We were inseparable. I slept with Bunny Bunny wrapped tight in my arms. I brought her on all trips, even those that only lasted a day. I played with her, sitting her down at tea parties and introducing her to each goldfish I got.

I remember being scared when we adopted a dog and cat, afraid that the two would somehow hurt Bunny Bunny. Puppies chew everything, and kittens scratch everything. It was a dangerous time to be a prized possession. But she survived, sitting pretty on my hastily made bed or wrapped in twisted sheets.

She survived being washed. My mom keeps a clean house, and Bunny Bunny’s graying fur would not stand. My mom was always gentle, making sure the stuffing didn’t come out and the thin fabric didn’t tear. She treated Bunny Bunny with the highest respect. She was part of the family after all.

I remember one night, after brushing my teeth and donning cozy pajamas, I couldn’t find Bunny Bunny. Hysterical might be too calm a word for how I reacted. I remember my dad in the room with me, searching every nook and cranny for my Bunny Bunny. It was a harrowing twenty minutes before we found her. She had fallen off the bed and gotten trapped between the bed frame and the wall.

When I left for college, Bunny Bunny came with me. She sat on my shelf, watching over me as I lived on my own for the first time. When I got lonely and homesick, she was there to be hugged and snuggled. She got me through that first semester.

Today, she sits on a different shelf, this one in my apartment, still watching over me. When I’m sad, I give her a hug and remember the joy of being a child. She’s my longest friend, and someday I’ll tuck her into a crib next to my first child.


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