Forum: Arts / Fiction

Scare Bears - A Care Bear Horror Story
By mizziemember has saluted, click to view salute photos
On Thu Aug 23, 2007 04:03 PM

A little something from Enlgish Class that I wanted to revisit...

Scare Bears

My sister flipped through dozens of commercials- cigarette ads, phone dating services, beer plugs- before finally finding her cartoons. I snuffed out my cigarette on her teddy bear when I heard the car pulling into the driveway. She turned from the television to yell her complaints, but stopped when I held my fist up at her. Works every time, I sneered to myself. I had been attempting to finish an essay for my English class while I allowed my seven year old sister, Lavender to stay up late watching re-runs of her favourite cartoon: the Care Bears. I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't lost a bet to my friends, forcing me to be in the same room with the show for at least three episodes. Only two had been completed, and I still had an essay to finish if I wanted to graduate.

When my mom entered, she made it clear that she had "not appreciated my behavior and lack of responsibility." I basically shrugged it all off. It's not like I cared whether or not Lavender had school in the morning. I was sent to my room. I was content…I had been in the same room with the Care Bears for three whole episodes. My mother had only yelled over one.

I pulled out my English essay. Half finished. Not bad, for having done zero research on my "chosen" topic: Children and Media. Basically, I was supposed to write about whether or not the media affected kids. I made up some stuff about how they see a billion ads a year, and how ten percent of children become prostitutes after seeing too many sexy and violent movies. Of course, those statistics weren't true, but my teacher definitely wasn't going to check out the links I had put in my bibliography.

I'm Rosie, by the way. My mom wanted her own little flower children, Lavender and Rose. I'm sure she was a hippie when she was a teenager… which makes me wonder why she makes such a big deal when I go to parties. She claims to be worried about drugs. Ironic, considering the usual pass time of hippies. I try not to dwell on it. Ignorance is bliss. Anyways, I'm hardly the perfect child my parents wanted. In fact, I'm the exact opposite. I like parties, drugs and fights while my parents like money, politics and church. Both are deadly combinations, sure, but at least mine has some consistency.

I attempted to finish the essay. Figuring that I had come up with enough "BS" to get a passing grade, I looked at the clock. In one hour, my friends would be picking me up for a midnight party. It was going to be great: guys, beer, maybe even a couple cheap pushers. I snuck out of my room and down the stairs, making it back to the living room, where I started out. My mom was asleep, her room and bathroom thankfully being in the basement. I considered turning the television on, but decided against it. No matter how quiet they were playing, my mom could "feel" it when somebody was watching a violent movie. Still, I needed some entertainment. I pushed the "on" button. Suddenly, I felt something really strange. My body had lifted off of the couch, and I found myself hurtling towards the television set. I screamed, and everything went black.

I woke up in heaven. No… that definitely wasn't right. If there was one thing that I ever knew, it was that I definitely wasn't going to heaven. I leaned up on the rainbow coloured bed I had been sleeping on and looked around. There were colours everywhere, making me look quite odd in my- bright orange dress? I was wearing an orange smock-thing with a purple ribbon tied in a bow at my waist, my chained dog collar nowhere in sight. I noticed a rainbow nearby, a mirror in its center. I approached it, and finally got up the courage to look at my reflection.

I would have noticed my bright blue eye shadow and died pink hair if I hadn't found that my entire body- or what had been a body- was now a cartoon. That's right. I, Rose Center, was a bright, balloony cartoon. I looked closer into the mirror. I then heard something nearby. I walked towards the nearest door and opened, yelping when I found a world of clouds. I approached the noise, and found exactly what I had been looking for. A group of brightly coloured Care Bears were playing with my things, trying some of the items on. I found myself suddenly angry.

"You took my clothes!?" Of course, those weren't the only words I had screamed, but I'm not sure that what I did say can be easily described. The residents of my sister's dreamland stared at me, frightened of my loud voice. One of the braver Bears, who I soon came to know as Friend Bear, replied to me.

"Of course we did. Dark colours like black and grey have no place in the Kingdom of Caring." Her voice was terrible and high pitched. How could kids actually like these things?

"You have no right to do that!" I ran up to the group, particularly a pink Bear with a rainbow stomach. She was wearing my collar, it too tight for her thick neck. "Give that back to me," I snarled at her. She remained still, and after a few more seconds, I threw my first punch. In mere moments, I had started to fist fight with a Care Bear. To my surprise, the other Bears did not seem to be upset by the battle, and instead began to form into two mobs, picking which of us to cheer for. I immediately realized that none of this was real at all, and that the world around me was nothing but a dream.

Relieved, I strangled the Bear with the dog collar. Her body disintegrated into a puddle of colour and I bowed before the excited creatures. They clapped, and I soon found myself enjoying what I thought would be a nightmare. When they died down, I began collecting my things, challenging any other Bears who wanted to fight with me. That is, until a blue one raised the question:

"Where's Cheer Bear?" he asked.

"I don't know, Grumpy Bear," a yellow Bear with a sun on his stomach replied, eyeing me curiously. I smiled, shrugging them off.

"She's in Care Bear heaven," I laughed, and the rest of the Bears joined me. One of them approached me.

"Can we try on your clothes?" she asked. I nodded, wanting to see what a punk Care Bear would look like, obviously knowing that I would never take the time to picture it when I was awake. All of the Bears began dressing up in my clothes, laughing all the time. When I noticed that there were no clothes left, and still colourful Bears, I asked one if there was a way I could get more clothing for them.

"My name is Wish Bear," she replied to me, and granted my wish. All of the Bears became black and frightening, and even began fighting each other as they had seen me fighting Cheer Bear. Suddenly, they all began to huddle. I watched as they deliberated about something, giggling a little as they did so. I had to admit, these Care Bears were pretty cool, and if I ever created a cartoon, I'd have to make it about them. They stopped talking. I noticed that they were all looking at me.

"What is it?" I asked them, rolling my eyes.

"We take winner," a navy blue bear told me. I had no idea what they were talking about until I noticed that they were approaching me. Wish Bear conjured up a mace. I understood and ran as fast I could, along the wispy ground. The clouds began to turn black as the Care Bears chased after me, and every footstep I took caused a lighting bolt to fling down onto the pastel Earth. I screamed as I fell off the edge of the final cloud, and again the lights around me faded to black.

I woke up, jumping. I was back at home, sitting at work table in my living room, my essay now wet with my own sweat. I sighed in relief, and looked around. It really had all been a dream. Suddenly, I heard my sister's voice at the couch.

"You're up late."

"You're one to talk," I replied to her with attitude.

"Aren't you worried about what mom will say?" I was confused. I stood up and approached my sister. I could have screamed again, but for some reason the sound refused to leave my mouth. I watched the television in horror as Funshine Bear was decapitated by Reaper Bear's blood covered knife, the Forest of Feelings burning behind them. My sister cheered all the time, a combination of whisky and cigarette breath leaving her mouth. I did all I could do in my orange dress - run.

I slammed the door on my way out and ran through the city, looking for a place to hide. Eight year-olds were standing on street corners while even younger children sold them cocaine. A nine year old had a needle in her arm, drinking to take away the pain.

I took it all back. I wished that I had never wanted to ruin the perfect world of childhood, that I had never destroyed The Kingdom of Caring. It didn't matter, because in the next moment, I was shot by a seven year-old with a hand gun. Everything went black. This time, I didn't wake up.


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