Gemotions

He found it wedged between a stack of moth-eaten blankets. The bear, patched and worn, stared up at him with button eyes that seemed to accuse. It was Theodore, the bear his bully, Kevin, had used to taunt him. The memory of Kevin's sneering face, the playground dust, the feeling of utter helplessness flooded him.

"Well, well, well," he murmured, picking up Theodore. His fingers traced the faded stitching, feeling a strange tightness in his chest.

The woman running the sale was engrossed in a magazine. He paid the asking price, a pittance, and left, the bear tucked under his arm.

He drove past Kevin's old house, now painted a garish yellow. A small thrill ran through him. He wouldn't do anything drastic, of course. Just a little… something.

At the bakery, he ordered a cake, its frosting bright green. He requested a special inscription: "Happy Birthday, Kevin. From Theodore."