Her fingers wrapped around the brown, worn teddy bear. It was small enough to fit in her hand, but it hurt more than the bite of a tiger shark. More than a lion tearing you to pieces. Alive.

And all of the pain was from this small, silken bear.

She instantaneously placed it down and grabbed her right wrist as if she had been bitten. It won't hurt meΒΈ she thought calmly. Just my imagination. Her eyes lingering on the stuffed animal, she got up and began to walk away. Down the hallway with off-white walls. Into the room that had hung mirrors and large windows that tossed the sun's rays around the room. She moved sluggishly over to the coffee table as she blinked her eyes in the sudden sunlight. A framed photo sitting atop the dark wood slowly came into focus. A woman stood there. Her hair fell over her shoulders her pink lips were taught, forming a smile that revealed perfect teeth.

"Morgan, do you want to go to Ben and Jerry's to grab an ice cream?" a voice called from upstairs. The question cascaded down from the balcony above. Morgan glanced up from the picture. She readjusted her tangled blonde hair as she waited for her father to give up. She didn't want to go anywhere. And she wasn't going to go anywhere. She was going to stay here.

"Morgan," her father asked again, "do you want to go to Ben and Jerry's?" His steps resounded off of the walls as he marched down the stairs, his hand on the polished railing.

He appeared from around the corner, a mug of coffee in his hands. He leaned against the wall and let out a breathy sigh.

"Well?" he asked once again, his eye brows raised in questioning. Morgan turned her head, letting her blonde hair fall like a veil across her face.

"No," she replied, a hidden scowl smeared across her face. "You can pick it up," she thought for a moment, "but I'm not going."

"You've got to get out of this house, Morgan," her father reasoned. Morgan's hand grabbed onto a nearby lampstand. "We can go to Walmart. Or Target. How about we get dinner at Tropical Smoothies?"

"I told you," she drawled, "I'm not going out anywhere!" She squeezed her hand around the lamp. Barely holding herself back from throwing it, she turned around and paced out of the living room and back down the hallway. She slammed her door open and then kicked it shut before falling into a heap on her bedspread. She put her head in her hands, her body shaking as small tears dripped from her eyes and traveled down onto her hands. They beaded and grew until they plopped down onto the plush blanket and became a circular, nonpermanent stain. Morgan looked down. The circles of salted water had already begun to vanish. Something that will never happen to what I feel, she thought dismally. She covered her eyes with her hands and wiped at the tears that clung to her face. They rolled down her hands and to her elbows until they seeped into the bed. I want to die, she thought silently. I want to die!

"I want to die," she sobbed as quietly as she could before she dropped her head into her crossed arms and eventually fell asleep.