My Moon Bunny? I didn’t think she would stay. I didn’t expect it, not really. I thought she’d go slipping off into the night in the same ethereal, mysterious way that she appeared.
That isn’t what happened.
The owner of the house next door, who rents it out, came by to mow down the lawn. He found Moon Bunny there. He asked if she was ours and if we wanted to keep her. Of course we did. I told him I’d buy her a hutch today.
No, he wasn’t having it. He had already called somebody to come by with a cage, to take the rabbit to his house where it has pine trees to run through. Pine trees? That’s our rabbit. That’s our bunny. We feed her and love her and hold her. She’s my sign that the world is good, that there’s still some magic here, still something left.
I begged for our rabbit. They put it into a cage and put the cage in the back of their vehicle.
My daughters and I were crying. My disabled son didn’t understand what was going on. My very sweet, very patient husband was trying to explain that we all loved the rabbit, we’d been taking care of it, that it was our pet.
“No it isn’t. It’s on my property. It’s mine.”
When they went to close the trunk, I grabbed the cage. I shouldn’t have, I know. But I didn’t know what else to do.
I begged him.
“Please give us our bunny! Please don’t take our bunny!”
He grabbed my wrists and told my husband to control his wife, that he was going to call the police.
Things were escalating fast. I’m ashamed of my role in that. I couldn’t keep myself together. This bunny, she’s more than just a rabbit. She was magic. She was hope that life still has good things in store. She came when I needed her, when I was so broken that I was barely able to function.
I told somebody a few weeks ago that I’m good at pretending everything is okay. I’ve always done it. The day of my daughter’s death anniversary, I went to the World Horror Con after party. A frickin’ PARTY. Hours before I was crying in bed with my daughter’s blanket, but I washed my face and went. And look, I even looked happy.
Because it’s a party, right? Because nobody wants a sad girl at a party. Because Spin and Twirl, Spin and Twirl. Did I fool you? Did you think I was happy? If so, then good. I did my job. Because I was not happy. I was heartbroken.
This rabbit. This stupid, white, out-of-the-blue rabbit. She appeared when I was drowning in loss. When I needed some sort of a sign that I was a good person, that there were things to hope for, that somebody loved me along the way. She was magical. That was taken from me. Now she’s just an animal that a stranger put in a cage. He degraded her. He degraded all of us.
There’s a meanness to the world that keeps being forced into my face. I try to look past it. I strive to see the beauty. I search for the divine, the inspirational, for the things that will get me and my children by. Tonight? I don’t see it. My children witnessed ugliness today, and it makes my heart sink to think that I can’t protect them from it. That I can’t protect myself.
I don’t want to be hard. I don’t want to be that person. But I can’t take any more loss. I just can’t. No more disappointment in people. I’ve hit my threshold for a while. I’m too fragile for you, World. You’re…mean. Just too mean.
I do have some good news. A book signing and a presentation. I’ll share it soon, when things look brighter. For now, I’m going to swing on my swing outside. Yesterday I held a precious white rabbit in my lap while I do so. Tonight my hands and lap and heart will be horrifyingly empty.