My Rabbit

My Rabbit

He went everywhere with me, even appearing on wedding photos.  I loved this strange looking thing, with his large red cylinder shape bottom, tubed body with little stubby arms at right angles, a head out of proportion with crosses as eyes and nose.  But the most important thing were the ears worn out and replaced many times, they were everything.  Long and comforting, wrapperable around my fingers, my security.  I could face anything that my world threw at me as long as I was able to weave my fingers around those ears, and rub them gently on my cheek while sucking my thumb.  I felt complete, confident and secure, bold and fearless, even off the spiders that ran around my room at night.  As long as I had my rabbit’s ears in my hand.

I still remember the day, I was made to throw him away, ‘but big girls don’t need things like that’ my mother informed me, but I didn’t feel grown up.  I still need my security, it was the only thing that had stayed with me, that was still mine. But there she stood with the bin opened waiting for me to cast away my rabbit, and with it my protection.  The hand was now placed on her hip and the foot started to tap, ‘come on that smell thing has to go, or do I have to do it?’  It’s my rabbit, if anyone was going to cast it way, it would be me.  So I gentle and carefully placed him in the bin, slam went the top ‘good’ she turned and strutted away.  A single tear ran down my cheek, I mustn’t cry, but how was I going to survive without him.

Gill