The Memoirs of Ted. E. Bearsby. ~WIP. Teaser.~

Story by Lory on SoFurry

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#1 of Ted

Little taste of the main project I'm working on lately. Let me know your thoughts and opinions!


_So, this is a little something that's ben floating through my brain for a really long time. I've been working on it a lot lately, and thought I might put the first little bit out into the world and see how it's recieved. _

Let me know what you think so far!

I have a story for you. Not just any story. This wont be a fairy tale, if you are looking for a happily ever after, I think you've picked up the wrong book. It's ok, it happens. I wont be offended if you place this one down, go back and lose yourself in your fictions. In fact I envy you the chance to do so. Seems more often then not lately, I find myself wishing my memories, the very thoughts that run through my head were mere fantasies, remembrances of an old book, long ago read, but cemented to my mind. Sadly this is not the case. My memories are just that, My memories.

However I rush ahead. Do forgive me this, it appears old age has withered more then my body. Shall I start over for you? Yes, I think I shall. Greetings to you. My name is Theodore Eric Bearsby. Though most of the people I've ever met call me simply, Ted. I see you smirk, yes. It's quite alright, I can see the humor, Ted. E. Bearsby. What an original name for a teddy bear right? At first I agreed with you, after all, what does a stuffed bear have besides his name? Why couldn't I have found a more creative child? One who would find a more fitting name, for such a fine bear. I was a silly young thing. I have grown to love my name, because it came from her. It is all I have left of her now.

I suppose that my story starts with her, It will also end with her. There were times before her; In the factory as I was made, in the store before I was bought, and in that dreaded box, where I sat in the dark, for what felt like days. There have been times since her, I care not to think about them, the past few days have been, difficult. Harder then I ever feared, and although I knew they would arrive one day a part of me had always dared to hope, that I would not end up here, sharing with you this tale. Yet here we are. Let us continue.

Her name was Abagail. Abagail Louise Bennet. To me, She was Abbey. My Abbey. The first time I ever saw her face, the box that had been my prison was opened, the blinding light had stunned me momentarily. There was so much noise. As my eyes began to adjust, I noticed coloured paper, bright balloons, I could hear music and laughter, faces started to form, smiling children a man with a bright red nose and very strange hair. Then, through the colours, the lights and the brightness. There was Abbey. A look in her eyes like nothing I had ever seen before. A smile wider then any of the other children. She picked me up, carefully, under my arms, I remember it tickled. I didn't laugh though. I didn't move. I sat perfectly still as she raised me from the box and held me close. From that very first hug, what choice did I have? I loved her. She held me high again, showing the gathering children as she proudly declared my name to the room.

"I will name you, Theodore Eric Bearsby, and we will be the best of friends!"

It was rare after that she called me by my full name, I soon became Ted, or Bearsby on occasion. That moment, was the beginning of my life, and the start of our story.