"No!" I screamed, reaching forward with my arm extended. Tears formed in my eyes and my small voice cracked. I watched my bear soar out the window, sucked away by the air. Gone within seconds. I felt that lump in my throat grow and the hairs on the back of my neck rose in a feeling of guilt. I lost Simon. It was my fault.

It was at that moment that I wished I rode with my mom. We could not ride with her, however. No matter how much I cried and threw a fit, I was put behind my grandma. It's not that I did not love Nana, I just had hatred in my wee heart for Jed. Mom didn't want us kids to see her cry, but if only they let me ride with them, Simon would still be in my lap waiting to see Chris. I sat behind my grandma's leather seat, bawling my eyes out. My palms were pressed against my eyes with great pressure. Snot hung free from my nose, trying to follow suit of Simon. I begged to looked for him.

We did not turn the vehicles around. Instead, we pulled over about a mile past the resting place of my bear. My parents pulled up behind us in our white rusty van. Everyone went out to help look for him except my mom and Jed. Jed, I hated him. I despised him. I so desperately wanted to throw my tiny fists into his white hairy chest. Hurt his heart the way he hurt all of ours. I felt resentment toward my grandma that day for being with someone like him. He took away the most important thing I could have ever given Chris. It was too late for Simon.

"Sorry kiddo. We just can't find it, we gotta go," my dad said as he gave me a side hug.

I cried the rest of the way as we cruised along to Chris's hometown. My cries filled the van, creating an even more uncomfortable atmosphere. Mom had convinced everyone to pull over at the local gas station to see if I could find a replacement bear for Simon. No bear could have replaced him. He had a special meaning to me that no other stuffed animal could have, and that is exactly why I wanted to give him to Chris. We did, however, find a different bear I could give, but he was not a replacement. He was a disappointment.

The new bear wasn't even close to being as sentimental as Simon was. The only thing they had in common was the color. The new one was a lot bigger, fluffer, newer. It wasn't mine. His fluffy, stubby arms were stretched out in place, as if waiting for a hug. Simons hung limply at his sides. There were no stray strings of cloth that hung off of the new bear. Those big black, beady eyes stared into my soul, as if to say, "You let Jed win."

I didn't want to tell this new bear my name, but I felt I had to. Lizzie. I needed to clarify to him how important it was to keep Chris company. When we arrived to see Chris, Mom could not handle looking at him for too long. I stood there feeling so small and powerless. I was just a kid, after all. I studied the bear in my hands. Despite what happened to Simon, I still gripped the new bear close. I wanted him to still be important. I walked over to see Chris.

He was lying motionless in his casket. His face pale and his clothes clean. With a shaking hand, I placed the new bear next to him. I nuzzled it gently with his left arm since he was left-handed. I noticed other assortments of objects that had been placed in for meaning and value lying all around him. Just like me, everyone wanted to leave a piece of them with Chris. Except, my object now had significantly less value.

I attempted to hug Chris one last time. I could barely reach over into the casket at that age, let alone hug him. My tears dropped onto his skin as I leaned over, and I felt guilty for letting my droplets fall onto him. My brain was scrambled with thoughts and questions. Why did you do it? I kept asking myself. It floated around my head, seeking an answer, but I knew no answer would ever come.