War - short story

As I walked my fingers across the brown flimsy opening of the cardboard box my other hand reached for my tattered old teddy, I’d had him ever since I can remember – he was a gift from my aunt Elizabeth. While my hands were holding the bear a tidal wave of memories came rushing back into my mind of the moments that him and I shared, alas they are now just memories. I don’t recall why but ive always known my tattered teddy as peter, I guess I just thought he looked like a peter. His fur used to be a smooth caramel brown from what I can remember, although now he seemed to be an everlasting chestnut the seemed to bled rather well into his black button nose and his onyx like eyes, he also had a big red bow drapped across his neck which gave him rather cheery sence about him. I gave peter one last tight hug before fully taking him out of the bashed and battered cardboard box, whilst doing so the strangely familiar smell of freshly cut grass and bluebells – this took me back to a very vivid memory had with peter.

All of a sudden I could see myself back in my back old back garden from during summer, the sun beaming down with rays of light so clear you could see the dust dancing in the sunlight as it fell to the ground with a blurred image of my mother sitting in the background with her oh so precious vogue magazine covering her tomato face. Although it was me playing with peter, it was small fragile eight year old me… I seemed to be playing an army game were peter was the head in command and all my smaller pippa dolls were the soldiers, I don’t think ive ever seen myself quite as happy as I was then. But I guess I didn’t know what was headed full speed at me, did I? As I replayed the memory in my head I felt myself tingle all over and a surge of warmth and what I think may be relief make its way through my body.

I let my hands wander across peters rugged fur and they came to a halt as I felt an unusual stitching appear just below his heart. I gazed down curious to