A Teddy Bear's POV

Oh, I’ve waited years to tell this story.

Name’s Sir Buttons. I’m a stuffed bear with classic beige fur, one ear slightly chewed, and a heroic patch over my left eye courtesy of The Great Juice Box Spill of 2013.  I swear, I got loved will. I live on the top shelf now, semi-retired, but I’ve seen it all. You want to know about Chesna? She is my owner. Let me tell you.

Chesna is the kind of human who talks to her stuffed animals like we’re real people, I mean which, of course, we are. At least in the kingdom of her room, which used to be an enchanted forest (pre-renovation), then a science lab, and most recently, a space command center. Her imagination? Yeah, Wild. Boundless. She once gave me a jetpack made from juice box straws and a rubber band. I still wear it with pride.

She used to drag me everywhere, to tea parties, on car rides, to doctor appointments (I once got a sticker  for “being brave”), even sleepovers where I was stuffed in a bag with a flashlight and her favorite clothes. When she cried, she squeezed me so tight my stuffing shifted into new configurations and shapes. I didn’t mind. That’s what we’re for.

She grew older, though. Fewer tea parties, more notebooks and mysterious devices with glowing screens. I saw her laugh with her friends, fume over math homework, and whisper secrets into the quiet hum of bedtime. Some nights she’d pick me up again, her fingers finding the worn seam on my paw, and for a moment, I’d feel like the hero of the story again.

Now, from up here on the shelf, I watch her. She still hums when she brushes her hair. Still makes that little snort-laugh when something surprises her. And sometimes, when the world’s been a bit too much, she still reaches for me in the dark.

So, what’s Chesna’s life like? Beautiful. Messy. Wonderfully real. From my button eye view, she’s always been a little bit magic.

And I should know, I’ve got the patch to prove it.