Bunny Reincarnate

My mother pulled me aside, her eyes looking me up and down as soon as I had stepped inside the house. I went in for a hug, but she kept her hands firm on my shoulders, analyzing me. Then, after staring into my confused eyes for a little too long, she rolled my sleeves up and stared at them for a while too. Afterward, she looked at my cheeks, feeling along my jaw, but not the way she usually did. She was looking. Then she searched at my knees, the skin showing from beneath my jeans in a ripped hole.

“What is this?” she asked.

“I fell from the slide,” I said.

Her shaking hands had backed away from my body, but still, I could see her chest shaking up and down. “Okay, okay.”

“Mommy, are you alright?”

She gave me half-smile like usual, but the corners of her mouth had twitched. “I’m alright, dear. Now run along, Sal, your father will be home soon.”

❊

Dad did not show up for breakfast the next morning. My mother still looked uneasy, but at the time I never thought about it. That was what my mommy was like whenever Dad was home, I had gotten used to that. The cereal was soggy in my mouth. I complained to Mommy about it. She put on a smile for me and told me she would get some more for me.

She didn’t come back immediately, and a few minutes later I could hear Dad talking loudly. Louder than he usually did. It was at this volume that Mommy would tell me to leave, go ahead to school, don’t wait up for her. Be a big girl, she would say, you can walk to school alone, can’t you? Today I would do my job without her having to tell me today. I pumped up my chest and grinned. Yes, I was a big girl. So, just as the yelling began to come from both sides, I was out the door with my backpack and a mouthful of soggy cereal.

A teacher saw me arrive alone without Mom, which I heard her say once was not allowed, but she didn’t say anything. The teacher was too caught up with one of my friends.

“Bonnie!” I exclaimed. I ran up to her and gave her a huge hug, picking her up from the ground which she hated for me to do.

She wore a party hat and a rainbow balloon floated upward from her hand. “Sally! I’m seven now, Sally!”

“I’m still six,” I said.

“Is there anything you want to wish her?” my teacher said, leaning down to my size.

“Oh, right. Happy birthday, Bonnie!” I smiled, and she bounced on her toes. “I’m sorry I can’t get you a present. Mommy said she would bring me to the store but she never did.”

“It’s alright,” she said, “come on.”

The day was full of extra fun spent on Bonnie’s birthday. We played so many games that I could barely hold my excitement. The last thing on my head was leaving Mom and Dad. But whenever Bonnie began to open her gifts I began to felt bad. Maybe it was sadness or anger, I couldn’t tell. I wished that Mom had brought me to the store like I had asked her several times. Yet every time I would bring things like that up to her, she just told me she had enough on her plate, and party gifts were the last thing she needed.

I had fewer classes than the other kids, but today I was a little dismayed to go home early because I would miss eating cake. Mommy was so proud of me, her little “gifted child.” Today, as I swung my legs while I sat on the school bench, I thought about how much fun I had had during the day.

A teacher came down the corner and handed me the phone to call my mother. It took me a minute to remember the number, but when I did I held it up to my ear and waited. The wall in front of me was decorated by a long row of drawings that extended all the way across the hallway. They were all from kindergarten, all depictions of bunny rabbits. I imagined myself in the photograph, bouncing with the huge rabbit, smiling and living with it as if it was my own mother. I bet the bunny would have taken me to buy Bonnie a gift.

The call went to voicemail. I thought of leaving a message but remembered how Dad yelled at my mom for leaving him a voice message instead of calling him again. So I called again. I thought about all the things I would do with the rabbit family. I would like to live in a cottage, eat cookies all day, and having friends that I could give gifts to whenever I would like.

The call went to voicemail again. With the bunnies, I would never have soggy cereal. I would always be taken to school by my mother, as much as I liked being a big girl. Every school day would be a party.

Another call to voicemail. And another, and another. The bunny rabbits would never miss my calls.

The teacher came back minutes later with several other teachers. They didn’t ask whether she picked up, they just smiled at me.

“How about we stay a little longer today, is that okay?” one asked.

I nodded, mind still on bunnies. I didn’t smile back at them, because I began to remember that I didn’t live in a cottage with a rabbit family.

“Bonnie is about to blow out her candles. Would you like some cake?”

At that, I cheered up and finally grinned. “Yes, please!”

❊

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” I sang along with the crowd. And when it was all over, and Bonnie blew out her candles, I asked her what she wished for.

“Don’t you know its bad luck to say your wish aloud?” one kid spat.

I stuck my tongue out to him and turned back to Bonnie.

She said proudly, “My wish is to have family night tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“Family night?” The other kid laughed. “Don’t you know?”

Bonnie just rolled her eyes. “It’s where you watch games with Mommy and Daddy and then snuggle afterward.”

“Oh,” I said. “I’ve never had family night.”

“Well, maybe you can join me sometime!”

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my arm, “maybe.”

The cake wasn’t very tasty, and although I wanted cookies, they didn’t have any. I didn’t like it and pushed it away from me. Everyone was still talking about family night. I had a vague memory of doing something like a family night when I stayed overnight with my cousins. Mom never told me why she had to drop me there, all I knew was that her cheek was bruised and Dad was nowhere to be found.

No one was talking to me. I didn’t want to be at school anymore. I wanted to be with the bunnies, I was happy when I looked at the bunnies. The teachers were away, talking with one another and not looking at me. Perfect for me to slip out of class. I wasn’t going to miss any work, anyway.

The hallway was silent, lonely, cold. My fingers ran along the chilled wall, the groves, the paint - until I met the rows of bunnies. I sat down in front of them. Bunnies with hats. Bunnies with dresses. Bunnies with eyelashes. I finally caught sight of my own drawing: a baby bunny with a mamma bunny. In my mind, I was that baby bunny, hopping along with an imaginary mamma bunny that made me feel safe. My eyes closed and I breathed in, and out slowly, dreaming away a childhood in that cottage.

❊

I could hear a movie playing in the background, my favorite movie. Mommy never played my favorite movie. I walked across the hall of my home and smelled warming cookies. At that, I dashed across the house until I reached the kitchen. Every counter was lined with cookies. Chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, cinnamon, all types of cookies.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” I yelled, running across the house and into the living room.

A bunny the size of me sat at the place my mother would. Her eyes looked at me. It wasn’t my mommy, only the one I dreamed of.

“Oh, hey,” I said slowly, disappointed.

Mom didn’t talk, just wiggled her nose and approached me. She gave me a big hug with her little rabbit arms. She was fuzzy, soft, and I loved that hug. When was the last time my real mother had given me a genuine hug?

Daddy walked into the room, mittens on his little stub of hands and holding a tray of the cookies. His head hit the ceiling and Mom made a sound that represented a laugh, and I laughed along. Dad frowned, felt around his head, then his eyes went to mine. His eyes were black like Mommy’s, not like my dad’s. I stopped laughing as his gaze fell on me. I tensed up and stayed completely still, doing exactly as I would every time he gave me that glare. Instead, he wiggled his nose and bunny-laughed too along with Mom. Still, after that, I didn’t feel like laughing.

Mommy hopped back into her chair and patted her furry legs. I climbed onto her lap and she clicked play on the movie. My first family night without my real family.

❊

I woke up at the sound of teachers whispering loudly. No, not just teachers. Students too. All around me. Yet, the hall was still empty. I could hear things in every classroom being moved, desks being readjusted.

I stood up, feeling light-headed from sleeping against the hard wall. I faced the bunnies. I stayed for a moment, admiring the dream I had with the bunnies, but then I woke up from the imagination when I heard the alarm. It was ringing in my ears, loudly, the same one they would sound during school drills. My hands pressed against my ears, but even that didn’t silence it.

I didn’t know there was a drill today. Oh no, I knew what would happen soon, just like every time. The first time we did a drill, I was terrified when the principal banged on the classroom door. Then a kid told me it was only the principal, and that took half of the fun out of it. What would the principal do if he saw me in the hallway?

I dashed to the classroom the party was going on in. I turned the doorknob, but it didn’t open. The alarm rang in my ears to the point where I could barely hear my own voice as I yelled for someone to open. I didn’t know what to do, no one was answering. They didn’t cover this when they explained what to do during drills. My fist banged on the door. Once. Twice. Harder. They didn’t know it was me. I would surely get detention for this. What would Mom say to me, her “gifted child”? Tears clouded my vision.

“Bonnie!” I screamed so loud that it silences the alarm for just a moment. “Please,” I cried. My hands finally fell weak against the door when it swung open. A teacher stood wide-eyed looking at me and my tear-filled face. I was still weeping when I lunged toward her and grabbed her legs, crying and hugging her. She didn’t hug me back as some teachers did, but instead shut the door, locked it, and hurried me to the rest of the kids.

They were all in the corner of the classroom beside the closet, hidden from most of the room in the darkness and desks. Bonnie’s head was on her knees, and I sat beside her, tears still falling down my cheeks. The boy that used to make fun of us was quiet now.

“W-will I get get-detention?” I cried to the teacher.

She turned to me, put her finger to her lips, and said, “Sh.”

I cried more, and she sat uneasily where she was, glancing now and then at me and wiping away sweat from her forehead.

Footprints outside. The principal was coming. Fast. Faster than usual. Was he screaming? I couldn’t tell, I couldn’t stop crying. The teacher looked at me again, with more of a glare, but I kept crying. The yells and feet got closer. I wept louder. Finally, the teacher lunged toward me and smacked her hand against my mouth, silencing me.

Bangs sounded on the door. Our door. No yelling, only for a moment. We were all dead silent. Another bang. Then finally, a voice. “Open the hell up!” he yelled. My eyes stopped tears flowing. Daddy? More bangs.

Bonnie was trying to hold back cries and now and then it slipped out in small, silent whimpers. She was shaking. I was frozen.

“Open up!” Daddy?

Even the teacher’s eyes were specked with stressed tears.

“Don’t make me use this!” Daddy said, hitting the door with his fists. Finally, the banging stopped. He was gone, and the teacher slowly released her hand from my mouth. But then, there was a silent clicking noise.

Shoot.

A bullet flew straight through the glass section of the door. I would have screamed if it wasn’t for the teacher’s hand that went over my mouth. Actually, everyone was silent. Even after that, we were all dead quiet, terrified, and shocked. Glass was spilled across the floor, but no one was hurt. Daddy didn’t look inside, didn’t shoot again. It couldn’t be Daddy, though. No, it couldn’t be. I thought this was only a drill. Why was it not only a drill?

I don’t know why he moved on. I don’t know why he didn’t look inside. I didn’t know why he was there at all. But finally, his footsteps were heard going further down the hallway. People were letting out sighs of reliefs, small chuckles, happy for their safety. My face was wet with tears. My face was buried in my knees. I wanted to go back to the bunnies, back to the cottage. I was selfish for not loving them because they weren’t my real parents. I wanted to go back to family night, to snuggle with my mother’s fur, to watch my favorite movie, to eat chewy cookies. I didn’t want broken glass to be feet away from me.

But it was over. He was gone. And everyone was happy. The footprints got farther away, and people were whispering about the intruder leaving without actually hurting anyone. Leaving without checking the other classrooms. Why was he even there, they asked? To an elementary school? But I knew. And I wanted mommy.

We were finally told to stand up, the coast was clear. My tears were dry and I was numb. Everyone was told to stand up, but I couldn’t. Why was Daddy here with a gun? To hurt me? Everyone was happy, no one was hurt, but he had hurt me to my core. The teachers must have been telling me to get up, but I couldn’t hear them. But I did hear the click. Silent, subtle, in the distance. People were beginning to leave the classroom. But what about the click?

Shoot. The teachers stopped in the tracks, the children ran back to their spot. There were no yells, he didn’t hurt anyone yet. A minute passed. Then, a scream. And that’s when more bullets began to shoot.

Shoot. Screaming. More screams. Screams from children, from teachers, from Daddy. Shoot. Crying. Crying from children across the hall. Crying from children from beside me. Shoot. I shut my eyes, wished myself away back to the cottage. Shoot. Finally, I wished Daddy dead. Finally, I wished to never be born. Finally, I wished to be reincarnated as a bunny rabbit.