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Creative Writing (Paragraph)

Short story By: runningbike1234
Other



creative writing in paragraph style :) I hope you enjoy! :P


Submitted:May 9, 2013    Reads: 285    Comments: 0    Likes: 2   


Cramped, Crowded and dirty, these are but three of the descriptive words I would use to describe my home. The Ziploc bag that we reside in has grown filthy over the past week, and the whole family is breathing pure dust. We are all desperate to escape, but the "Master" won't let us. Many of us have tried, rolling from tables, leaping off of high counters, hoping to break our fragile bodies on the ground. All of the folks that have tried have returned in some shape or form to the bag, as disappointed as the rest of us. We have lost all hope. Yet here I am, still serving my master obediently. I write everything for him, and occasionally, he will use me to stab his buddies when they mock him. The other day, I even witnessed the master and his buddies killing my people for their amusements. Monsters. I plan to escape from here soon, even if it costs me my life. I don't want to suffer like all my family before me. As I am planning, a large shadow has begun descending into the bag. I look up, a "Hand", is descending down into my home, ruining our false dreams of freedom and tranquility. The fear kicks in when I realize it is coming for me. Panic rips through me, and I try to move, but I can't. The hand grabs me and lifts me up, and for a second, the outside world is revealed to me, displayed in it's vastness. I catch a glimpse of my most likely destination, a menacing place. It is a small box with a hole in the side, which my master calls the "sharpener". It runs on stuff called "Electricity", which is a concept I can't grasp. As I begin the long plunge down, I think of my family back in the bag. Will they miss me? Nah. Probably not. I start to panic as I get closer, and as I am submerged in darkness, I scream. My master thinks it is the sharpener making the sounds, which is really me, and he ignores my screams for forgiveness and help. Slowly, my body gets ripped away by the metal pieces gyrating at the bottom of the hole. The pain is unbearable, and before I know it, I am seeing stars. I pass out. When I awake, I am in a dimly lit space, and as I turn, I detect a slight glow coming from a piece of crumpled looseleaf beside me. Then I smell Smoke.





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