Hopping off your bed, you waddle your way over to the shiny mirror mounted to your wardrobe. Wait, waddled? You look at your reflection and yell, in a voice squeakier than you once had. The reflection that looks back at you is that of a child, below the age of 9 at least.
What? How can this be? The sight overwhelms you with emotions. It’s like a dam in your body broke, suddenly fludding you with the unrestrained emotions of your childhood. You tear up and instantly start crying, bawling like a child without any control.
Tears are rolling down your face, a torrent of water soaking the filthy, well-loved teddy you’re clutching to your chest. With your mind beginning to slip, you find yourself hugging it for dear life. For some reason, despite it being to cause of all this, it comforts you.