I had just finished stuffing the cake into the burial vase. Slowly standing up, still in that flowing red dress, I stared down at the former dessert-turned-burial offering.
That’s when this strange vision—the ghost of one of the teddy bears—showed up in front of me. He was what I would expect a ghost to look like—transparent, and rather monochrome; you could see areas of lightness and darkness making up his form, but I didn’t see any actual color.
The teddy bear asked, “What you doing?” He said he couldn’t understand why I was smashing the “nice cake into the vase of life.” It then pointed its pudgy stuffed arm at me, and he said, “Your punishment has come!”
The scene suddenly changed. I was on a small desert island, so small I could see the entire perimeter and all of its boundaries just by turning all around. A long tree stood in the middle o the island; it was exactly like a cartoon depiction of being stuck on a desert island.
The sun was out, and it was so bright it was nearly blinding—but somehow it was still freezing, as if the snow and ice should actually be blanketing the atmosphere instead of the sun. It was mid-morning, though I don’t know how I knew that, specifically.
I don’t know if it was the freezing despite the sun or the blinding light, but I started uncontrollably crying again. I covered my face in despair and then yelled hoarsely through my hands, “All right, all right! I won’t look for the teddy bears anymore!”
At that moment, the island started stretching out—and so did the blinding light, so that balanced out and became a nice, warming sunshine. The ice cold temperatures of moments ago vanished, and it was warm and balmy.
The amazing thing is that while it stretched, the beach also became populated with people. They were all around, playing with beach balls, getting a tan, having picnics and just enjoying the sun.
Then suddenly, the fairy godmother character from before passed by on a bike, riding it along the beach, and said, “Isn’t it a beautiful day to enjoy?”