I first started to get weird feelings about the bear when my sister first got it, she was only a baby at the time, and I was about 4. We had a dog, you see, and he had a habit of eating things so my mother always had to put it up on the small cabinet in the corner of the hallway upstairs. Every time I went up those stairs, I saw that creepy bear suddenly glare around the corner at me, as if it was watching me. This wasn't the weird part; it started to get really weird about 5 years later: at the age of 6-7 my sister had lost interest in the bear so my mother just threw it in the old toy cupboard, the only problem was that the cupboard was in my room.
When I was 9, old enough to stay on my own and go to bed without any assistance, every night I would get into my bed at night and turn my lamp off. This is when it got scary. As I was getting some sleep, I suddenly remembered Mum putting that teddy in the cupboard; I slowly turned to look over across my room to see it through the glass. My heart suddenly stopped as I thought about the horrors the plush had caused me, but at the age of 9, I wanted to grow up and lose my fears so I just shook it off and put my head on the pillow.
When I got up to pull my sheets on a bit further, I noticed something that would scar me for life: there sat, at the end of my bedroom, the teddy. My heart started beating normally again. I sat there staring at it for about a minute. When I needed to yawn, I closed my eyes. I opened them to see the teddy sitting closer to my bed. At this point, I was really freaked out. I started to move back to the wall and looked around to see if there was any sign that anyone had come in. When I looked back to see the teddy on the end of my bed, I was so startled that I almost fainted from fear. When I blinked, it had gone. I looked around. To my relief, I saw no sign of it.
I sat my head back down on my pillow hoping for some sleep. Then I opened my eyes. It was above my head, staring straight down. I screamed as it lunged down at me. I will never see a bear the same way again. A few years later, after years of horror, I burned it; I sat in enjoyment as the bear was turned to smoking ashes in my fireplace.
I have lived my teenage life through adolescence; the only thing I could remember that was in any way similar to my bad experience was when I watched Trainspotting. That fucking baby scene shocked me so badly but other than that, all was well.
When I turned 19, I was about to move into my new home. I had been given the keys to the house and was ready to set up my furniture. After hours of carrying, I carried the final box from the removal truck into the front door and shut the door behind me. I turned to go into the kitchen and put it on the table. I opened it to see a cabinet. I took it out, walked into my new living room and placed it in the corner, stared at it and thought to myself, I don't remember packing this cabinet. I didn't really care that much as I had just moved into my new home.
I walked back into the kitchen to grab my television and brought it into the living room when I saw it. The teddy, it just sat there, staring at me with those realistic blank eyes. It was beyond imagination, like something from a
horror movie. My fears could not be contained and whatever that bear or demon possessing it was, it knew I was scared. I threw it in the garbage and put a cinder block over the lid as I slept in my bed that night, content and feeling a little more secure. I woke up that night and checked the time. 12:00.
I heard a sound in the kitchen. I went to the kitchen and noticed that the outside door was wide open with muddy paw tracks leading into the kitchen. I saw that one of my knives was gone from the holder and then I heard something creeping behind me. I hightailed to my car and drove. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw its face. It was holding a knife. I slammed the brakes. It flew through the front windshield, stood up, and stared right into my eyes. I felt as if it was pulling me towards it. The only thing that would be coming towards it would be my two front wheels. I rammed into, it felt a slight bump, sighed in relief, and drove. Not even a minute after, I felt as if something was cutting at the bottom of my car, then my car grinded to a halt. I went out to check it: there was a slash through my fuel tank. I ran for dear life to the nearest hotel to stay at. The only one was a mile away. I ran with every few feet it was just one foot behind. Once I got to the hotel, I fell on the bed with exhaustion. When I woke up...It was at the end of the bed...