My most sacred object is one I will never let go until I die. It may sound silly, but it is a teddybear I had named Sunbear, since it was yellow like the sun. I pretty much grew up with him, having him since I was four, and apparently so passionate about the bear that through the years I have given him a gender. That is how connected I am with this bear, that I have considered him to be another creature on this planet. I know this is sounding ridiculous and somewhat obsessive, but I had Sunbear for ten years. Ten years is enough to grow so close to an item as I am to him.
Wow, ten years. That's a long time, especially considering that I am only fourteen years old. Let's talk fractions here. 10/14 years is how long I've had Sunbear, right? If we fully simplify that fraction, it's 5/7. That that is a lot. Percentage would be about 71% when rounded. Big number right?
Now as far as the origin of this bear that has been with me that rounded 71% of my life, I still really not quite sure. Supposedly, according to my parents, I stole it from sister while she was still in her crib, about one years old, but even then they aren't that sure either. I almost don't want to believe that story, because it kind of makes me feel cruddy. How would you feel if you were told that a close object of yours that you had know idea where you got it became your item because you stole it? Not only did you steal it, but you stole it from your literal baby sister, who is completely defenseless, and you got four years on her? Not so well would you? You would kind of feel like a jerk and that you shouldn't even have this but you still keep because it is precious. Trust me, my sister fully believes that story like it is her religion, and she use it as excuse to take him every now and then. It rarely happens though, but it still grinds on my gears.
Now, this is probably the 30th time I've said this, but this bear is old. And just to let you know, it looks old too. Really old. First off, he isn't even yellow anymore. He's this weird ugly warm grey color. I haven't washed him once (sorry I know that sounds very gross and shouldn't be said but it's the truth). He is also very torn up for whatever reason; he has a hole in his "neck" area and his leg is falling off at the seams. His cotton stays in however, because it is so beat and push together that it has lost all of it's fluffiness it probably once possessed. The thread in the nose embroidery is lose, too. And the ribbon that was once tied neatly around his neck into a bow is now strangled around his neck and arm like a noose or something. Looking back at that I wonder, "What happened to this bear and where did I go wrong?"
Yes this bear is old. Yes this bear is broken in many ways. Yes this bear was probably the result four year-old thief me. But i still love him, and when I die, I want something honorable to happen to him. Possibly, he could either be buried with me or I could pass it on to my future children. Whatever happens, I just want that bear to still have a special meaning beyond my grave. Sunbear is truly sacred to me.