Please do Dr Frankenstein Christopher Robin
I'm confused as to why you'd be intrigued by my preteen fever dream but *cracks knuckles* it went like this-
I was a child once, a child with an imagination like a river. I dreamt of tigers and bears, of talking pigs and grumpy old owls. I was a child once, and I leapt through streams and puddle with a bear yellow as the sun gleaming beside me.
"You will leave us one day," Pooh said, "You will leave and we will be sad, but happy. For every ending is a new beginning."
I didn't believe him at the time- for what child ever dreams of leaving paradise? Hindsight is always twenty-twenty and now, staring at the corpse of a rotting sun, I wonder if things would have changed had I believed him. If I had accepted that I would pass from childhood would things be different? Would I be less consumed by this frenzied fervour that devours me?
Would my family, my mother and father, my siblings and cousins, still accept me?
It is useless to ponder these things, what is done has been done, and I am but a slave to the bright sun burning in my chest. The memories of honey and jam and tea served by kind old owls. I am a servant to the past so let the past devour the present if it must.
The bear - pieced together by sunlight and memory - gasps on my table, a death rattle, the cry of something that knows it's damned and isn't that funny? That a bear would know such a thing as damnation? God loves all his creatures save for when they go against his orders and Pooh has always been a trouble maker.
I reach out and flick a switch, the windows rattle with the strength of the gale outside and rain drops shatter themselves upon the home - once soft and sweet, cozy and calm - I turned to cold steel. A laboratory needs no home comforts.
I think I might be wrong, but the sun shining from the bear glows brighter after I had flicked the switch and something like hope, like joy swells in my chest.
Yes, I think, Pooh come back-
But it is not Pooh that raises from the table. It is not a creature of God or even the Devil that stumbles off my table. His form is bright and brilliant, everything I had imagined but his eyes-
His eyes are the dark of space. They hold dead planets within them and despite his warm glow the air around Pooh is cold.
"Christopher," Pooh's voice shatters the windows and wind and rain rush in, I scramble backwards trying to grab something, anything to fend off the creature in front of him. "God sees your sins, Christopher."
"I have done nothing," I defend myself, falling to my knees as my hands turn up empty, "I have done no wrong."
"You taught the language of man to animals," Pooh says, "You brought us your man made laws and shame. You tainted paradise with the stench of humanity."
"He gave you a chance, took your memories and placed you back into society," Pooh says, his mouth smiling as though he's pleased, "But we never got another chance. Doomed and damned as we are, Christopher, it would be nice for you to come with us."
His cold glow brightens, and for a moment I can see everything.
In the next moment, I am gone.
