"Life Support"

Charlie is a teddy bear, he’s lying on the bed looking at the ceiling fan and light that’s on. He’s having an existential crisis.

Charlie: Did I overhear them correctly? Am I passe? Who would throw me away? This feeling is… Bad. I don’t know what it is I’m feeling, but I guess it’s like nausea as he described it. 

The boy runs into the room and grabs his phone and headphones from the desk.

Charlie: “Could you see that I am yours?” I’m here for you. I have been since you were two and I will be until your dying day. Or my dying day? If my turn is first then “will you be my life support?” Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t exist in a world that you don’t live in, “you’re my life support.”

The boy comes in again. This time agitated. He sits on the floor, angry for a moment.

Charlie: I can help you. Come pick me up and give me a squeeze. Wave me around the room like you used to. Remember that time you were so angry you ripped out my arm and your grandmother mended me? You’re angry, do that again. 

The boy stands up and huffs out of the room. He turns out the light as he leaves. 

Charlie: I’m “sick of waking up in darkness.” Sick of being in the dark. Especially when it’s dark outside. Usually I can see out the window and I love it “when the sky is… painted blue.” There’s nothing to do in the dark. I’m only left with my thoughts and “there’s a method to my madness,” but it’s easier if it’s not dark. 

The boy comes back in and jumps to lie on his bed. He is leaning on Charlie who he takes from under his back, looks at, and then tosses face down in a chair. 

Charlie: “It’s clear that you don’t have a clue.”

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