Bears

by Sierra Auman

My parents died on a Sunday, and their combined funeral was held on the following  Friday. Despite my grief, I was in charge of making the arrangements. From what I remember during the ceremony, there was a pair of black bears standing at the edge of the forest line. They stood, staring at us and growling quietly to themselves as the entire ceremony took place. I avoided looking at them like they were a plague.

The bear was their animal. They held so much symbolism to the two of them. To her, it meant protectiveness and love. To him, they meant being in charge and familial support. The wallpaper at the cabin had bears on it, and she slept with a stuffed bear he got her on their first anniversary after getting married. Her wedding ring’s diamond was shaped like a bear (which I know he paid a pretty penny for back then). It was their spirit animal.

The ceremony lasted a little over two hours. People brought up long-forgotten memories, the immediate family cried until they couldn’t breathe, and there were so many hugs. I was grateful that the weather cooperated; the sky was that gorgeous sky blue you see on bitter cold days, except the temperature was a comfortable 74 degrees.

Those two hours, plus the thirty minute drive home, were a lot on me. I was in charge of arranging the viewing, the funeral, and reaching out to my family and friends about the news. Since I had all that stuff to do, I didn’t get a chance to grieve. I fell asleep in bed as soon as I got home, once again losing my chance to grieve.

I woke up only seconds later, standing in the middle of that field again. The weather had changed; dark clouds had rolled in, blocking the bright sunshine and darkening the environment around me. What a shame, I remember thinking, they would’ve loved to have one final sunny day.

Then I looked around. Those bears were back, and they were approaching me. With every step they took towards me, I felt my stomach drop a hundred feet into the depths of Hell. They took slow, synchronized, ground-shaking steps, approaching me as if I had raised them from babies.

“Uh… Hello…” I murmured, reaching out to touch the coarse black fur of the female bear. I was expecting the fur to be softer than it really was, so I was surprised when instead of being a soothing moment, the fur of the bear stabbed through the center of my hand, causing my hand to bleed.

Oddly enough, however, I felt nothing. No pain, no sting, nothing. It was almost as if it didn’t happen. If my hand wasn’t bleeding, I would have assumed it didn’t happen.

When the fur of the bear pricked me, I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, sucking in a breath in anticipation for the pain. When it didn’t come, I opened my eyes. All around me, the landscape was the total opposite of what it once was.

The field, which was a bright grass-green during the day, was now a mixture of ashy grays with a hint of yellow. The ground was softer now than it had been this morning, sinking beneath my feet as if rain had rolled through recently. That explains the clouds, I thought nervously to myself.

When I looked around, I noticed right away that the gravesites were crumbled and broken, as if someone had come in and destroyed them, one by one. Then I heard the screeches of the birds in the area, crying out in agony as their world fell apart all around me. Trees fell down, lightning struck from nowhere, and thunder rolled in the distance; it was chaos, and I felt like my head was spinning, trying to keep up with it all.

“What’s going on?” I asked, turning my gaze towards those two bears, who stood staring at me as if asking me to solve the madness. “What has happened? Who are you?”

A voice coming from nowhere sent shivers down my spine. This is your fault.

I knew right away that even though the bear never opened her mouth, that voice came from her. It was a voice I was all-too familiar with. 

This is your fault. You need to let go. You’re causing us great pain here.

“What does that mean?” I whispered. “You’re not-”

Let us go! Let us rest and roam the forest! You’re holding us back!

The sudden scream from the voice startled me; punched me in the gut. I let out a choked sob, one that had been held back for over a week now. I never had the time to worry about feeling anything before. “I can’t let go… If I let go, I’ll be alone! This chaos, it… It’s too much!”

You need to let us go! It cried again. Every sentence it spoke became more urgent, as if my choice in the next few seconds meant life or death. 

I closed my eyes, pushing against the sides of my head with my hands and letting out a blood-curdling scream that matched pitch with the crying birds.

Let us go!

Let us be free!

This madness will end when you let go!-

I opened my eyes again, this time laying in the bed of my house. My breath was heavy and uneven, and beads of sweat ran down the sides of my face. My sheets were balled up in the corner of my bed, and my arms and legs were tangled in my comforter.

As I stared into the darkness of my room, my brain replayed the sounds of the chaos. The birds, the begging to be let go, the thunder and lightning; it played over and over like a broken record in my mind, making my heart race with anxiety.

I started to cry, releasing days and days of stress, anxiety, and grief all at once with each tear that rolled down my face. I cried for hours, long into the early morning. I watched the sunrise through tearful eyes, and ate breakfast as my body hiccupped and choked, desperate to relax.

I heard black bears roar. It sounded immensely grateful. We roam the forest in peace.