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Hello everyone. This is aberdeen0 here. This is just a little
story that I made for a class project. It is the life story of a piece of
garbage.
Why hello everyone! My name is Herbert Brown, but most people just call me H.B.
for short. The next thing that I am about to tell you will probably amaze or
frighten you. Most of you will probably not believe a bit of what I am about to
say. Well, whether you believe me or not, I will tell you; I am a pencil. Yes,
you heard right. It is not a figment of your imagination. Nor are you dreaming.
I am a living, walking, talking pencil. I might just be the only one on the
planet.
I am here today to share my life story with you. It happens to be a sad one, so
you might want to get your box of tissues ready.
Well, I began my life as a miniscule seed, smaller than you can imagine. I was
planted in a land quite far away from where I am now. This mighty land, of which
I used to call home, is called the Amazon.
I began to grow and grow until I was a little seedling. At this point I was
being taken pretty good care of. I received plenty of water every day (sometimes
a little too much for my liking, but I am not a complainer) and I enjoyed
whatever sunlight I could get. Many years passed and I continued to grow taller
and fatter. My skin became rougher and thicker. However, no matter how much I grew or matured, all the other trees seemed to look down upon me with a twisted
smile on their face.
Even though I was the runt of the forest, I quite enjoyed my life as a growing
tree (even though, secretly, I longed for more excitement in my life).
Then came the day, the terrible day, when my life as a living, growing tree came
to an end forever. From an optimist's point of view, I guess this would be a
form of excitement. Anyway, it began as any normal day would have begun, the
same way it had began since I was a little seedling. I woke up early in the
morning and stretched every single one of my branches, which produced a nice
rustling sound. Ah -- in a way, I do long to be a tree again.
All of a sudden, I heard a great roar of sound coming from somewhere in the
forest. Shrieks of terror were occurring are all around me. Great crashes of
sound could be heard from every corner. I immediately stopped my morning routine
to find out what all the commotion was about, when two human men emerged from
the bushes.
This is all I remember from my last minute as a tree, for I woke up inside a large
moving thing. (Later on, I found out that this is a human machine called a "semi".
Honestly, you humans think of the dumbest things.) Thoughts were running through
my head. "Where am I?", "Why am I not in my nice, comfy soil?", "Why are all
these strangers in here with me?" and, "Who is touching my butt?".
Before I knew it, we are all being unloaded out of the "semi" and put onto
another large, scary machine. I was rudely striped of my skin, as were the
others, which left me feeling very naked and uncomfortable. If you can imagine
this happening to you, please do so, so that you may feel some of the pain and
embarrassment that my relatives and I had go through to make you humans happy.
Soon enough after the "stripping" of my dark, textured, beautiful skin,
I was moved, feeling very humiliated, onto a large thing, a bit like a treadmill.
Along with many other trees of only my race, I was lead to the place where I was
to be decapitated. Why do humans have to be so racist? Why do the humans wish to
slaughter the cedars? If you know the answer, please contact me. Anyway, in this
dreadful place I was chopped into many blocks, about the size of a shoebox.
Sorry, another question: what are shoes, anyway?
I was beginning to think the pain and the suffering was almost over. But, no,
no,no! The process was long from over. Do you realize how much work goes into
making a pencil? After being skinned alive, and chopped into many pieces, I was
being chopped into even finer pieces! Can you believe it?
Now, with pieces of me all over the place, I was really starting to wonder what
was going on in this strange place. What would you think if this happened to
you? I still have terrible nightmares about my journey through the factory.
Thank goodness the painful part of this dreadful time was over! Not too much was
left over from the process of making me as I am today. I was "stained" with a very
stinky liquid. I guess they didn't like the color of my skin, either. After
being stained, I was painted a very vivid and flaming yellow, which I actually
quite enjoyed. It was so contrasting and unique at the time, and I felt very special.
A few other little touches were added on to me, which just made me feel ever
more distinguished. You know that saying, "Find the silver lining"? Well,
I was
filled with a silver lining that day. I also received a very admirable silver
and pink hat, called the eraser. My initials were printed on me in very nifty
black writing. It may sound stupid, but at the time I felt very like the happiest
piece of wood in the world.
This brings me to a rather dull point of my life. Therefore, I will not bore you
with all the little details. I was loaded back onto a semi, along with thousands
of other freshly created pencils. We traveled far and wide, each box being
dropped off at a different location across Canada. I happened to be unloaded at
a place that you might know as "Superstore". I spent days and months just waiting
to be brought out for sale at the store. As you can imagine, there is not really
much you can do when you are a pencil and you are stored in a box with many
others of your kind.
Finally, after months of ceaseless waiting, it was time for us to be brought out
for the public! Now, I ask myself this question, "What exactly were we waiting
for? More waiting?" After waiting and waiting, it was time for... even more waiting! It
took a few weeks before someone finally decided to take us to his or her home.
As you can imagine, this was a very exciting time for us pencils. A new home and
new people to meet would be waiting for us! The pencils who I had come to call
my friends and I arrived at the house of Timmy, whom we would call our owner for
the time being.
The date was September 8th, which was Timmy's first day of the third grade. I remember that day clearly. The teacher introduced herself to the class and asked
her students to take out a fresh pencil to begin the day. I, being the lucky
pencil that I am, was the first one chosen from the box.
I got to know Timmy throughout the next month or so. He used me for everything
from mathematics to doodling. We also became friends... or so I thought!
One day, while just minding my own business on the desktop, Timmy rudely grabbed
me and threw me out the window! Like I was a piece of garbage or something!
Maybe it was because I had shrunk with old age. To tell you the truth, I don't
really know why I was thrown away.
This was definitely not a pleasant feeling, to be falling through the air at top
speed. I landed with a thud in a nearby bush. I began to wonder if humans were
just against anything that was made of wood. You would think that your own
friend would at least give you a pleasant goodbye before they threw you out of
the window!
In the next few days, I began to feel as though I was invisible. I would shout
and scream for someone to rescue me, but people would walk right by as if I didn't even exist.
Hours passed. Then a day. Then a week. I was beginning to wonder if anyone would
be kind enough to help me or if I would perish altogether. Let me remind you
that this story has a happy ending, of course, or else I would not be here
today.
Then came the day, the wonderful day, when I received a second chance! It was an
incredibly warm day during the last few days of May, when a very kind girl named
Claire saved me!
I have now found a new home at a new school. I know that I am safe and sound... for the time being.
By Aberdeen0
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