Easter Bunny Chronicles

Josie G, Columnist

I stroll into the pet store. My smile consumes my face. I can feel the sun beating down on my skin, and my new sundress flows around my knees. The musical jingle of the bells greets my ears as a fresh wave of air hits me. The strong smell of animal poop brings my hope to a new heightened sense. I grin at the cashier and wave enthusiastically. I peer my head around corners and nooks, searching for the prized possession: a bunny. Aisles after aisles of reptiles, fish, and birds greet my eyes. I begin to grow impatient, but I round the corner to see a big fluff ball. The bunny I’ve always wanted is still there. Waiting for me. As an attendant strolls by me, whistling merrily, I flag her down. I watch in slow motion as the bunny is lifted from the cage. My heart pounds in my chest as I walk out of the store with a bunny in hand. 

A few days later, I am on my hands and knees. The carpet below me is covered with chocolate eggs, sweet candies, and sour candies. Pieces of sticky sweets are stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I have no idea where all of this could have possibly come from. I live alone in an apartment, I don’t eat much candy, and I keep my door locked. There is no possible explanation as to why I wake up every morning to candy on the ground. 

Sunday morning, I spoon cereal into my mouth. Across from me, sits a chocolate Easter bunny. His evil smile and beady candy eyes look straight into my soul. My body feels dead from exhaustion. I spend every day now, cleaning up chocolate and candy messes around my house. Despite my efforts, I still wake up to find Easter candy all over my room, kitchen, living area, and bathroom. Even my storage closet isn’t clean. 

I stare blankly at my ceiling. My head pounds and spins. The fan above me seems to move in slow motion. I lay in misery with candy wrappers on my chest. I feel a soft furry paw on my face. I smile softly and lift my bunny up in the air. 

“It’s me,” a voice from above me whispers. I sit straight up, the bunny dropping in my lap. I frantically look around, searching for the voice. 

“I’m the Easter Bunny,” I whip my head around to look down at my bunny. His big eyes look up at me, burrowing into mine. I shake my head slowly, frozen in shock. There was no way that my bunny, the bunny I bought from the local pet store, was the Easter Bunny. I refuse to believe it. I set my hands on top of my head and focus on taking deep breaths. 

The bunny climbs into my lap and lays his head down. My heart seems to calm at the sight. Even after the catastrophe this bunny put me through, I still love him. I still will keep this bunny. Obviously, these animals are the reason that candy has been overflowing through my roof, but I don’t care. My bunny had magical powers, and that’s really really cool. It’s not annoying or weird, it’s awesome.

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