I am an inanimate object. What am I?A Story by NewWriterOldWorldWrite an emotionally compelling narrative from the perspective of an inanimate object.They use me everyday without mercy. The whole family suffocates me without any regard, a constant burden of physical weight sinks my disproportionate legs into the fluffy surface below. What inhumane creatures do this to somebody? Do they have no mercy? The pain is continuous and worsens each day that passes. Congregating on my sunken stomach, they sit and laugh, dropping tidbits of foods into my core. Often times, they do not even have the courtesy of removing the debris they leave behind. Years worth of trash litter my insides, almost as forgotten as my feelings. The only bright spot about my pain stricken life is the occasional metal coin they give to me. Those b******s must think that is some form of consolation for their atrocities. There was a time where my body did not ache and creak with every ounce of weight. That was way before the times where the kids used me as some type of "base" in their cruel childish games. They pretend like there is lava on the surface below as they run back and forth, matting down my loose extremities, treating me like a prisoner being punished. I do not know how much more I can take. I write to you with my last breathe. My last moment in this hell hole. My bones have been cracked, the merciless children continue to break more and more each month. I now seep, my body a stained and embarrassing version of my former self. All the craftsmanship done by my creator was all in vain. I lay here, the companionship of the glowing light box all i have, broken and battered. They will use me until I have nothing left to give. I hate them for what they have done to me. © 2017 NewWriterOldWorld |
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1 Review Added on May 30, 2017 Last Updated on May 30, 2017 Author
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