By Wednesday of Week 6, it happened. You had lay down to try to go to sleep, which you haven't been able to do in the past 5 days now, and sort of drifted off into a daydream-like state.
The doctors had warned that animation could be prolonged by moving about, doing exercises, etc. You were heeding this warning as much as possible. Spending as much time trying to live your life to the fullest you possibly could. But with your diminishing height, down to just 4 feet tall now, and wearing muscles and lack of any defining feature with your stubbifying arms and legs, it was becoming more arduous.
It was Wednesday night, at some point you were unaware of it actually happening, when you officially became Inanimate. You were just simply sitting there in bed, day dreaming. Practically all night. It was around 8 AM when you noticed the sun shining through your window. You attempted to get up. To move. To look out the window. You could t believe it was so bright out already! Where did the night go? You knew you weren't asleep. You just had no desire to move.
But now you did. But you couldn't! You were....stuck! You couldn't even turn your head to look out the window! The only thing you could move, were your eyes and your mouth. You could see your arms, all puffed up teddy-bear-style. You saw your fingers had shurnk into a short little stuffy sausages, about to disappear altogether. You no longer had feet. Just teddy-tyle round "legs." You couldn't believe it! You had progressed much faster in a single night than you had in the past 5 and a half weeks!
You found you still had a voice, but it was weak. You could barely screech above a whisper, and forming words was hard.
"Mo-om! Mooo-om!" is all you would manage, sitting there. Not even loud enough to go outside the door.
All you could do was sit there for the next two hours. You were getting worried. Scared. You were still completely awake and aware, but unable to move. What if-...
What if.....Inanimates WERE still conscious? Who says they couldnt be!? How would they know!?
"Oh! Shit!" You think to yourself. "What if they're wrong and I DONT lose consciousness? What if I'm just stuck there, trapped inside the body of a TEDDY BEAR!? And...and... Oh, fuck! All anyone would see is just a competely lifeless object!'
You begin to panic, trying to move from your spot on your bed where you've been sitting since last night. Trying to get help. Trying to call for your parents with your weak voice.
"Max! Max, time to get up!" You hear your mother shouting from downstairs. "Your friends are here and they'd like to see you!"
Your friends!? You didn't want them seeing you like this. But regardless, you're in a completely helpless situation.
"Mom!" You mutter lightly. "Help! Help me!"
"Max? Honey?" Light knocking on your door.
Your door begins to swing open, as your mom peeks in. You hear her gasp, upon seeing your soft plushy immobile form.
"Oh! Oh no! Max!" She begins to immediately sob as she rushed over to you.
"Max! My baby! No! No, not now!"
All you can do, is look up at her with pleading eyes, and mumble the words "mom, I love you!"
She picks you up with no trouble whatsoever. She hugs you, squeezing you.
"Mom. Please. Not so tight." But she was a complete wreck. "Mom. Please." You try to pry yourself loose, but youre plush form is completely devoid of all muscle. You are totally at the whims of other people now.
""Hey. Um. Mrs. Muncy?' You hear your best friend's voice at your bedroom door.
"Oh no! Mom! Please! Hide me!"
She finally regains some of her composure, as she released her bear hug and pulled you away from her body, holding you by both of your study featureless brown furred arms, looking at you in the eyes. Recognizing you're still there.
Your best friend comes in, and he gasps.
"So, you really ARE turning into a teddy bear, Max!"
You could have died from humiliation alone. You thought loss of consciousness would mean it would be no big deal. You wouldn't exist any longer to care what others thought about you. But now the prospect of perhaps not losing consciousness and being a 16 year old teenage boy trapped as a freaking teddy bear and stuck with your own thoughts....you shuddered to think of it.
"I have to call Dr Machining!" Your mother suddenly said. "This is too soon and too sudden!" And away she went to get a hold of the office, going into another room saying "Dustin, honey, would you mind staying with Max while I call his doctor?"
"Sure thing, Mrs. M!"
"So, Uh. Max?"
You just sat there, having to look up with your eyes at your gigantic teenage best friend as he addressed you. Two more of your friends suddenly filed into your room. You couldn't do anything about it. Couldn't run. Couldn't hide.
"Whoa!" Said Eric. "He really IS becoming a stuffed animal!"
"Yeah," chuckled Zach. "You're just a toy for a little kid now, huh? Can you still talk?"
"Shut up, Zach! Yes I can still talk! I just...
Can't move...."
"Oh, this is weird. Talking to a talking teddy bear," said Eric, poking you in the stomach. You wanted to smack his hand away, but both of your arms remained competely motionless. All you could do was verbally protest.
"Knock it, Eric! Don't touch me!"
"Don't touch you?" He responded, giggling. ",Or what? Is the big mean scawey teddy bear gonna hurt me?" He asked in a childish mocking tone.
Ordinarily, you'd push the idiot and get into a wrestling match with him. But all you could do was look at him and begin to cry. Hell, you couldn't even brush the tears away!
",Please! Leave me alone!" You tried holding back your tears.
"Are you crying?" Asked Zack. Here, let me dry your tears!" He reached his big arm out, his hand nearly the size of your round body! He picked you up, faced you towards him. He smiled at you in his cocky manner, before you noticed he was lowering you towards the middle of his body.
Down, you rushed, until you were even with....his....crotch!
"Oh no! Please-" the front of his pants got closer, as he buried your face right into where his giant dick,something which you longer had, was beneath his pants, and rubbed you around his crotch as you tried helplessly mumble your responses.
Zach and Eric both laughed.
"I think he likes it!" You could hear Eric say amid his laughing. "He isn't even trying to resist! What a homo!"
"Ok guys, enough!" Said Dustin as he snatched you from the clutches of Zack. This was getting to be bothersome, being picked up and handled like nothing more than a toy. Going from hand to hand, and watching the large gigantic world spin around from the perspective of an object you are becoming.
At least Dustin was a good guy. He gently sat you down upon your own pillow, facing out.
"Ok, guys. I gotta take him to the doctors now," said your mom's voice. "There's an opening right now at the office. Would you guys mind going home?"
Eric and Zach looked at eachother, and snickered.
"Um. Is it....is it ok if I come along with you, Mrs M? To hang out with Max one final time at least?"
"Id really like to spend time with my son, Dustin. As much as we have left. His father is going to meet us there."
"Ok, Mrs. M. I understand," he said disappointed.
As your friends left, your mom towered over you, looking down at your pathetic toy-sized prone little form.
"Well, Max. Are you ready?"
"I...I guess I'll have to be. Not like I can do anything about anything ever again."
"Oh, Max..."
Crying, she gently lifted you up, and carried you outside to the car. The world was a much larger and more intimidating place than it was even yesterday! She buckled you into an old car seat in the back that was your sister's for her kid when he was a baby. You HATED being buckled into a car seat! You were a 16 year old boy, for chrisakes! You should DRIVING this vehicle! Not being buckeled into a car seat in the back by your mommy! And to make things worse, you were so little that you couldn't even see out of the windows! All you could feel for the car ride over, was your mom making random turns. You couldn't even so much as see the world outside any longer!
When you finally arrived at you doctor's office, your mom was on the phone telling your dad where to find you both.
"He has officially become immobile," your mom explained upon meeting up with your dad. Both of your parents looking down at you pityingly and sadly as they sat you on the coffee table before them in the waiting room. "It hasn't even been six weeks yet."
"Muncy? Maxwell Muncy?" Said a nursing, looking at a chart entering the waiting room.
"Yes!" Both parents spoke up, your mom grabbing you once again. This was becoming extremely irritating. Like fingernails on a chalkboard. Your beginning to feel anger any time someone grabs you and picks you up. You have two legs, afterll. Unfortunately, you can't use them....
The nurse led the three of you to a room, your mother clutching you tightly.
"Mom. Can you please not hold onto me so tightly?" You asked as loudly as you could.
"Im sorry, honey," she said, slightly loose ing her grip. "I just don't want to drop you."
Well, it WAS a long way down. An entire 5 feet, which might as well be a three story drop as far as you were concerned! But still though, it was unco.fortable, her constantly digging into you.
"Mom, can you please set me down somewhere?" You asked after a while when the nurse left you in the room.
"Please, honey. Just set him down," your father said harshly. He hadn't even spoken this e tire time, and just seemed angry.
Your mother finally set you down on the table in the doctor's room, and an entire conversation ensued, your father finally speaking. He was angry, because he couldn't accept that you were becoming a teddy bear.
The doctor finally arrived before the conclusion of the parental conversation, and he looked you over. He explained that you were in your last stages of transformation, and he fully expected you to finish up in the next clue of hours.
Your mom questioned why it went so quick.
"It depends on the person," the doctor said. "Some people succomb to the inanimation faster than others. It also depends upon the level of activity. The more a person moves, the slowly their transformation."
"But you said he only has a few hours left. I thought it was another two full weeks after immobilization! He only immobilized sometime last night!"
"Yes. It depends on the person and the object they are becoming," he explained again. "Based on the tests I performed last week, I'm pushingy diagnosis up. I'm not surprised he went immobile yesterday.
The conversation continued a little while, when you finally brought up your concern about remaining conscious. You don't even need to sleep!
"Yes, once your eyeballs change, that's the last bit of humanity left to you. Your brain will be coming nothing but soft cotton. No consciousness will be possible."
That made sense, and came as a relief. You wanted to die as soon as possible. It was much better than being stuck like this. Youade one final request, before you felt your vocals seize up forever. You wanted to see yourself in a mirror.
You mom and the doctor obliged as your dad just sat there angrily. They set you in front of a mirror. You were shocked at what you looked like, and couldn't believe that little toy was yourself! You even had little round brown ears on top of your rounded head! The only thing still recognizeable as human, were your familiar brown eyes and your mouth.
You wanted this to be over. You tried to lift and arm to feel yourself. But nothing happened. But as you say staring at yourself, your mother sobbing, you felt your throat tighten up, dry out, and tasted cotton. You tried speaking again, but your jaw seized shut. You felt your lips begin to seal closed as they turned up into a smile. Slowly turning into a line of black thread. It didn't take long for your mouth to be completely sealed as you left out a few panicked mumbles. Your voice finally seized, and virtually all expression was lost to you as you say silently, but wide-eyed with that stupid smile stitched permanently on your face.
"Here it is. His last few moments," said the doctor, as you saw a black shininess cover over the whites of your eyes. You began to mentally relax, as you your end was finally coming. Slowly, your eyes turned into little hard black beads. You sat there silently, waiting to black out.
And that's it. It's finished. Your son isn't more."
You could hear your mother sobbing as you sat waiting to have the world shut off. But it never did! You were still alive!
"Come on. Come on!" You kept urging it on. You wanted to pass out. To black out. Anything. To even close your eyes. But you couldn't. You were stuck staring out of those black beady teddy bear eyes.
Your mother continued sobbing, as she clutched your stuffed body. Much to your irritation, she started squeezing you. You wanted to protest. To wriggle out of her grip. It was utterly useless. You were completely at the whim of the entire world around you. You didn't even have the benefit of communication any longer. Just completely locked away behind those teddy bear eyes.
This went on for god knows how long. You just wanted to go home. You hated these doctor's visits. Your mother's smothering and blubbering prevented you from thinking much about your situation, other than the fact that you can longer talk, and you can feel that stupid grin stuck on your face. You were already somewhat used to the fact that you cannot move.
Eventually, your parents finally decided to leave the doctor's with you in your mother's giant hands. She still insisted on buckling you into your car seat. Your father, being more practical, said that is now unecessary.
"That's just a teddy bear now," he reminded her. "Max is gone."
"Except I'm NOT gone, and I'm NOT "just a teddy bear!" You can only think that in your ceaseless mind. "Us inanimate objects ARE conscious!" But there was absolutely no way to get that message out into the rest of the world. Your entire world, your entire being, was shrunk down into the size and shape of a stuffed bear with absolutely no access to any muscles or vocals.
"How could you say that!? This is your son!"
"I do NOT have a son as a teddy bear! Max is dead! " Your dad exclaimed, as he got up and walked around the car to the driver's seat.
You could clearly see your mom was broken hearted, as her shoulders slumped before taking her place in the front passenger seat. When you got home, your parents set about their individual process of grieving. Your father was angry, and your mother sobbing and sentimental.
Over the next few days, your mother couldn't leave you alone. She was constantly holding and carrying what your dad described as your "remains." At least she didn't leave you alone for long periods. Night time was the worst, as it was the most boring. While they slept, you were stuck being wide awake and just staring at the same spot on a dimly-lit wall, or the the ceiling, or the floor, whatever the case was from your stuck perspective when you were finally let go.
Daytime could also be bad in its own way. You would have your responses you desperately wanted to make anytime you heard your parents speaking, or making your presence known. You would keep forgetting that you can't speak and can't move in any way whatsoever. Anytime you made an attempt to make even an involuntary movement, like trying to stretch with not even the slightest response from your body, you'd go into panic mode, trying even harder to move. Which only made it even worse. You would feel completely trapped and utterly alone. You'd get an extreme feeling of claustrophobia, and even try to scream and thrash about. But your prison in this stupid stuffed bear's body remained perfectly still and perfectly silent. Your stupid smile forever stuck on your silent stuffed brown furry face. The entire world completely unaware of your internal turmoil. Your parents totally oblivious you were anything other than an object.
There was talk about your funeral service at one point when you were not in panic mode. Slowly, over the course of the next two weeks, you began to become accustomed to the fact that you can't move or speak. You hated it, of course, at all times. But you began to learn that all you are, is just simply a silent and unknown observer. That's it. The talk of a funeral service becoming more frequent, especially by your father. Your mother objecting, because there was nothing that needed to be buried. One heart-stopping moment, your father suggested "why not bury that stupid bear?"
One day, your mom decided to compromise with your dad. Your dad refused to believe that the teddy bear you are, was ever you at all. He wanted to bury you in a box, in order to give his wife some closure. But your mom was obsessed with keeping you as a "memento." Kind of like having an urn on the shelf of a fireplace or something.
The compromise was that she would no longer hold you, or carry you around like a little kid with it's stuffed animal. And instead, she would just simply place you in a spot of your own, exactly like you would do with someone's ashes in an urn. That day, on your third week of being inanimate (you only kept track of time whenever it randomly came up in conversation; otherwise, you had no way of knowing what date or time it ever was), your mom finally opened your bedroom door. It was the first time in weeks you've seen all of your familiar things and your bed, and you isntantly forgot about your inanimate nature for a moment, and wanted to hop onto your computer to pick up where you had last left off on the last game you had played on it.
Instead, your body allowed you to be carried over to your bed, and propped against your pillow. Your mother was crying once again, and slowly backed away as she walked through your door.
"Wait! Don't go! Don't leave me here!" But your stupid smile remained silently planted on your face. This smile! You can't even stop smiling!
Slowly and lightly, she closed your bedroom door. You can see the room reflected in the mirror hanging on your door, including the teddy bear that was apparently you! You forgot you were stuck as a teddy bear, at the same time that you knew you were. You just hadn't seen your own reflection in weeks, until now. Now, you were stuck staring straight at yourself, sitting on your bed. It took a while to work out in your mind that that bear, that insignifsct little thing sitting on your bed, was actually you! Even worse, was your very last photograph of your fully human self above your head, in your high school baseball uniform that was taken merely two months ago!
It was also weird knowing that kid in that photo was once you! That you were once free to move around, speak, play baseball and video games! An active and social 16 year old teenage boy, reduced to the small and insginifcant form of a teddy bear!