Defeated by The Polar Bear, flash fiction by Angela Creasy at Spillwords.com

Defeated by The Polar Bear

Defeated by The Polar Bear

written by: Angela Creasy

 

“Mommy,” a little voice squeaked from the backseat. “Where’s BooBoo?” The words cut through my soul like a million knives. I could feel the daggers swirling inside me as I searched my brain for an answer. “MOMMY!” Perspiration dripped from my forehead and panic took over common sense. “MOOOMMY!” His impatience was killing me. I shot him a quick calming smile as I scanned the floor of the backseat. Of course, it wasn’t there. I knew exactly where the stupid thing was. BooBoo was having a great time sunning himself in the park we had left hours ago. His filthy bear face was smiling smugly, taunting me from the bench, nonchalantly folding his thick paw closed until only one finger remained to be seen. “I WANT BOO BOO!” My son’s shrill voice sent shivers through my spine. It was everything I could do not to scream out at him in annoyance. I turned up the music and grimaced to myself as Elsa yelled at me to Let it go. Yet another person in my life giving unsolicited advice. I would love to show her and the blasted bear exactly where they could go.

Ignoring Elsa’s advice and the animalistic shrieks reverberating around the backseat, I tried to devise a plan. I did not want to give in. Every part of me desired to leave that good for nothing bear right where it was. It could freeze in the cold for all I cared. Maybe then my nightmare of constant germs, dirt and diseases would finally be over. I laughed out loud in spite of myself as I envisioned the ice wiping the smile off of his cold, sad face, a single tear escaping from his sunken eyes. “MOOOMMY!!” my son’s bird-like shriek snapped me back to reality. God damn it, we had thousands of silly animals waiting for him at home. Why did it need to be this particular bear? Why didn’t I get twenty of the same bear the day I found it? He was going to need an answer soon. What could I do, really? We were three hours away from the disgusting bear and three hours away from our home, dinner and bedtime. However, what was bedtime without BooBoo? It was a complete nightmare, a shitshow if you may. One where neither me nor my son would come out alive. Exhausted and miserable, I turned the car around, silently singing, the bear never bothered me anyway. The screams got louder and I embraced insanity. My fate determined, I was eternally defeated by that blasted polar bear.

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