Reflective Narrartive Task - Sky High

Reflective narrative task – “Sky High”

Compose a similar narrative from the memory of your own childhood. If possible, try to adapt two voices – the child you were when the incident or moment occurred AND you as the retrospective narrator looking back.

I opened the large Nike bag where my Mum stored all my favourite toys from childhood in. I had a myriad amount of toys: a Pikachu soft toy the size of a basketball lay on top of the mountain of the rest of the toys; a medium sized teddy bear which I named Teddy, out of originality of course, was the next that I scooped up; Scooby Doo was next, which I had always found weird and still do, lay with his eyes staring back at mine. I tipped the bag over and let the rest of my toys fall to my carpet floor. Micky and Minnie Mouse lying next to each other. Although they were smaller, harder toys, they were my favourites. I smiled as I closed my eyes. Memories came flashing back.

I wake up gasping for air. My sisters and cousins were dark figures that lay still on either sides of me. Sweat covered my body. I can’t see anything else except more dark, irregular figures surrounding the room. I knew they were just toys but I was terrified. It doesn’t help when I just had a nightmare either. During the day, my toys were my friends and companions. But at night, they were monsters. I don’t know what to do. I lay still, afraid to move, too afraid that if I moved an inch, they’ll come after me.

Even after so many years, just reflecting back to the past, sends chills down my spine. I bend down and collect the two toys. They used to be big in my small, five year old hands. Now they were tiny. The slightly sandy and tough feel of the toys were still the same though. It was exactly the same feel as when I touched it with my lingering fingers in the almost pitch black room.

For some reason, out of the all the toys, the only ones that I trust are Mickey and Minnie. I guess it’s because I was so delighted to receive them as my birthday present from my parents that the emotions stayed whenever I played with them. Luckily, they aren’t out of my reach. I turn my head slowly and recognised that Mickey and Minnie by the outline of their figures. I’m crying now but as silently as I can so I won’t wake my sisters and cousins up. I want comfort. So I reach for Minnie first, very slowly, fingers shaking. As soon as I touch her I grab her in one swift moment and thumped back into bed, hiding beneath my covers. I felt safe. I felt warm. I fell asleep soon after, grateful that Minnie and Mickey were my best friends and would never leave my side, always near me somehow.

I look at the faded colours of the material used to clothe Mickey and Minnie. I could feel a small grin creeping on face. Well, I guess promises were broken after all. I made new best friends as I grew older and gradually, I grew distant from my toys. Although they weren’t always by my side anymore and I stopped talking to them by the age of seven, I still felt the same way about them. I’m still grateful for their existence. I’m thankful for their comfort. I loved them, and I still do.  But some things just can’t be helped from changing from when you’re a child then an adult. As a child, I spoke physically to Mickey and Minnie. As an adult, I spoke from my heart.