Eventually, anxiety won over embarrassment. I walked to her, holding it out like evidence, stumbling over my words. She took one look and burst into laughter so hard she had to lean on the wall. Between gasps, she explained: it was just an old jelly toy, abandoned, rolled in dust, transformed by time. I felt ridiculous, but also strangely relieved. The monster under the wardrobe wasn’t a secret, or a warning sign—just a forgotten, harmless piece of her past we could laugh about together.
I found this in my girlfriend’s room, under the wardrobe. I’ve been sitting here staring at it trying to figure out what it is, but no luck. I’m too embarrassed to ask her. Does anyone know what this is? Check the first comment for the answer
