I started off , in the ground . Never planned to be anything but a cucumber. But one day everything changed , I was sitting in the ground minding my own buissness when someone , something was tugging on my head . I could see light . It was cold, the air was brisk on my newly formed skin. I was traveling , the sun was too strong for my eyes . The will I had to open them was too strong and soon my eyes ajusted. I was comeing closer so a whole bunch more cucumbers just like me , in a box well atleast I think it was a box , I was dropped into it. Crowded by mulitple screaming vegtables. A rumbleing noise started up and we started moving , passing the farm I once used to come from on a journey to the unexplored. The spinning tires kicked up the dirt road making it hard to breathe , excitement filled me , and questions baffled me. Exploring beyond the dirt, beyond the place I knew best . Out of my comfort zone , and alone .

Soon the dirt road had ended and the grey cement was now what we traveled on , what a diffrence , such a smoother ride . The ride was long and boring , we started to slow down so I assumed we reached our destination . It had a tube on the roof and smoke was coming out of it , there was a sign onfront of the long shiney door which read 'Asian Pickle Factory' what was I doing here? How could I read? Well anyways , my fate was now determined. I was destined to be a pickle , but the process was it painful? Would I still be alive? My nerves got the best of me and I started paniking trying to escape . I was despereate to get out , I didn't want to be a pickle .

It was too late , I was trapped behind the golden gates connecting me to the road. 'Doomed' thats all i could think , we arrived at the loading station prepared to be unloaded. Shaking and hyperventalating. Barrels full of vinager , never smelt a liquid the smelt so sour. What were they for .. I was awaiting the pain , they picked up the wooden bin I was in , heading for the barrel's Walking quickly but their agility was magnifient as we reached the barrel I braced myself for anything , pain , a life after death , just something.. The bin started to tilt, I started to roll down into the the vinager , no longer was I in the box but in mid air , time slowed it felt like I was suspended in mid air seemed like minuets before all of a sudden , things became reality and I plumbited down, to the bottom of the barrel with a plunk. Fully imersed in the vinager I expect something strange to happen , expecting to feel pain I waited . When I could no longer hold my breathe I took one big breathe in , filling my mouth with the tangy fluid. I swallowed with my puckered face and tried again , desperate for air I kept on breatheing in , untill there was no more air in my lungs and I just gently shut my eyes and fell to a deep sleep.

Months later..

I wake up to the sound of something running down the drain , I was alive but I felt diffrent , I felt older. What had happened to me! I scope the room , I see dark green things right beside me , my vision was blurred but they looked familiar like old cucumber friends I made on he journey here , but no longer were they cucumbers , they were the same as me . I didn't like the new me , it was indescribable how i felt , but one word that I could use was angry . Not intentionaly but the vinager did something to us . Again we were being transported somewhere diffrent , but this time not in a wooden box nor in a truck , a clean jar with some sort of liquid in it , but this time the liquid didnt smell bad it smelt like every other pickle in the room , there was also a plant in it probaly dill. One by one we were put into the container , untill it was my turn , i tried to roll away but i had to controll of my body anymore , paralized forever .

I dived into the jar expect something interesting to happen . I thought this time for good I would be out in the open to see the world , but no life in a jar you can't see anything through the cloudy liquid. Alone in a jar , nothing to see and nothing to do . I descided to end this miserable trip . I closed my eyes a fell asleep , 'not to be disturbed' I thought as a drifted off to sleep.

My long slumber was rudly interupted when the sealed jar lid snapped open , a fork immersed itself into the jar and stabbed one of the pickles , then again and again untill there was only one pickle left. Me. Closer and closer the fork came , I tried to blink it all away but everytimeI opened my eyes it was closer. Soon it was close enough , its sharp points break my bumpy outter skin, I couldn't feel it , but I watched and imagined it. My eyes started getting heavy and my heart slowed down , I felt weak and my body was telling me to give up. I knew it was my time I could tell, this would be the end of my journey of becomeing a pickle. 'Goodbye' I said as I closed my eyes to rest of enternal sleep.

Be the same,

Being different. Focus on that, it's the only thing that will separate you in this world. Everything has changed now, being an individual was no longer excepted, we all have to be the same, be normal. Why the same? rebellion was happening people wern't excepted so things had to change. They made us change into people we were not, blonde hair becomes brown and clothes become gray and boring. We all spoke the same language, sang the same songs, read the same books, believed in the same religion, lived the same life. Everyone was hypnotized into believing, into thinking being the same was right. Well, I was different I couldn't be the same, I would never be the same. I had to live my life as a lie, behind closed doors I was me, the old me. The person who loved to be different, but very little time did i get to be me. Deep down, I can see in every one's eyes, that they want to be who they really are. Wishing they could go back in time and pause, to the way it used to be.

Under the lights of the dark street, I see what i see everyday. People, marching down the street in a direct line. Everyone with a straight face, not a smile in miles. Couldn't the government see we were suffering, we liked being diffrent, just let us work out our diffrences. As the march by I smell, the smell we were all forced to wear, the stench of it stung my nose. I had chosen to pay the price and smell like nothing, instead of the musky stink they call perfume. the same straight edge hair cut all those girls have, boy did I hate that hair cut, buzz cuts for the guys. All the buildings were the same, grey bricks with blue doors, if we wanted a hat it was a baseball cap of course grey. Life was diffrent then I wanted it to be, I couldn't describe my feelings for the day. I was never diffrent anymore, I never had fun anymore I sure miss the old days. But maybe relbelion will start again , maybe we can go back to being unique. I'm drifting off to sleep, and I understand that maybe I can be the same as everyone its time to except my fate

My street,

A small street to live on but full of many adventures and many good times, I can remember alot of amazing things that have happened all around my street. But lets just try and picture my street first, as you turn down the street of Parkveiw court you see many houses, plently too do on this street, a small forrest to adventure through and plenty of friendly people to socalize with. Theres my house with the white body and blue moldings, across the street would be Tyrel's house, I remember so many good times with him and his brother Dylan, me and my little sister would beat up Tyrel and his older brother in their front lawn. It was entertaining and very fun, I also remember playing in the forrest by my house with Jessica and my little sister and Tyrel and his brother came down and were throwing rocks at us. The forrest was possible the best thing to play in to pass time, me and my sister spent hours making forts and building traps down there, we would pretend we were stuck down there and try to survive.

In the forrest plenty on unforgetable things have happened. There was a tree swing, oh what joy that brought me and all my friends. Then of course there was the climbing tree, plenty of times I had come home with rips and tears in all my pants and shirts, I remember getting stuck up there for hours and hours, enjoying the veiw and yelling at the passers by. Hide and seek down there was one the best things to do, we would run around the dark depths of the forrest, crawling into every nook in every rock and climb up every tree. It was like a mission, thats how we would learn patients, stillness.

My next door neighbours would their baby blue house, I can always hear their large boxer barking and houling. I miss those days, when the boxer would freely run around the whole street, me and my sister sprinting after it for hours. We would sit on our fence and talk to their small children and soon be became great friends, they knew us and we became close, borrowing food items and things that are needed. Untill the dreaded day when on that for sale sign the was a sign that said sold, it was sad yes but all I could do was move on a forget.

Most of the people are our street were never really close, so when I wasnt with my friends the only person I could play with was my sister, that street is very important to me, and I would never want to move. I rememeber not haveing much toys when I was a child so I would just play with the grass and dirt and sticks, I learned to be creative, that I my street.

Better then your's,

It was silent, nothing to say nothing to do. The class was boring and the rain was pouring, all the students with a frown on their faces. I decided to break the silence "My sock is better then your sock!" that was my first out burst. AT first no one responded, they were confused by that random comment, but soon someone caught on.

"No my sock is deffinatly better then yours!" replied Alex.

"How so?" I questioned.

"Just look!" as she slipped off her shoe, "It has yellow and grey in stripe form. Nothing and I mean NOTHING can beat that" She remarked.

I smerked and responded with " Wow, that's it! My socks beat your by a long shot!" As a slipped of my shoe, and revealed my masterpeice "Look, lime green, yellow and purple, can you beat that?"

The class was shocked, why were we having a fight about a sock? I don't think I could answer that question. But it kept on going, the class was very amused by are silly little argument.

"Well, my socks are from Japan!" Boasted Alex flashing the tag on her sock.

"Think thats a big deal, mostly all my songs are made in Japan. But these, are made from twenty diffrent countrys!"

"What country's what might those be?" Asked Alex with a sinister smerk on her face.

" Names Unpronounceable" I was smileing after that remark.

We were having so much fun with this, smae with the class. We were making a great conversation out of socks. Alex has ran ou of things too say, I thought I was about to win the conversation . But then it happened.

"My socks are Asian!" Alex said after a long silence.

After that, I knew I just failed there, she knew that would always win, but then I thought of it. It was great I knew exactly what to say.

"Just to let you know, my socks came from all over Asia, so my socks are more Asian then yours." I had the biggest grin on my face.

Everyone around the class was confused. Asian has nothing to do with greatness. But in our minds it does. Our converstastions are usualy pointless but it's usaly great.

WORDSS

It's pitch black and lonely in here. This box is small and secluded, I was exasperated by the lonelyness. Why was I here, these questions baffled me, well in sithence I was playing Hide and go seek with my brother, but now it's been four hours. And I'm still here, inside this small toy box, the spot I hide ever time I play this game. I'm displeased, no one cares that I haven't been out and about four hours. Unloved and forgotten, they only care about arrangeing a $4000 funeral for my cat who died from panleukopenia, they are unrational they won't spend one measly dime on me and spend $4000 wasted dolars on the cat. I'm apperantly a 'nussence'. So now i'm here, overlying all these things getting ready to decompose, but they are imperishing. They are identing the abnormaly small toy box, th shattered grass shaving the flesh of my back. I feel tingleing inside, the fumes inside here are making me dizzy, toxic fumes equal mutation, oh great! I'm going to me a mutated freak uncounsious in a toy box full of imperishing unkown items. The scent, it was horrid, smells like an Acer negundo, maybe after a couple more hours I'll need some medication like i don't know Haematology the sickly taste of that medicence.

I bet you're wondering why I don't just open the door and crawl out, well to sooth you're overactive little minds someone put a unbreakable ununlockable lock on the lid, I'm stuck like a fish on a hook, nothing I could do but sit here and wait to decompose like the rest on unknown objects in this bin. I was inadmissible to my family, unexcepted or inproper to them, like I was a cat in a pack of wolves. I was rejected by my own mother, my own father! The ones who share my blood.

Hours passed and i'm still here. There's no doubt that I'm going to die, I never knew what I was like to be face to face with death, my fate was determined, all I could do now was wait...

Too much sugar?

In the air was saddness, silence filled the interior of the car. Tears dripping down her cheek, what was happening was all I was thinking. I was sad even though I had no idea what was happening but looking at my mom I felt sypathy. I knew, I was causing her this misery. But what was happening, I asked my mom there was no answer. The silence just dronned on, the confusing just kept growing, uninformed I arrived at the hospital. My mom got out of the car, grabbed a bag full of clothes and toilettries and head for the door, with the bright sign that said Enter *patients only* Then, all of a sudden, a light clicked off in my head. I knew why I was here, that page my mom researched on the computer finally made sense. I was here because...I have diabetes. That realization made the happiness in me drain all the way down my body and out my toes into the ground, gone forever. I was walked up into the childrens ward into a room soo bright, it had paintings of some sort of tree's or something on it. I was led to the bed by the window and sat down, still having mixed feelings about everything that was going on. Then a nurse bardged into the room, her eyes looked sad. She was carrying a tray it was bright red with food on it. I was hungry, but why couldn't I just go home and eat? She placed the tray down and left without saying a word, her marshmellow looking nurse shoes pitter patted down the hallway. Then she came back, with two things this time, things i have never seen before, ifirst she pulled out this small rectangle thing, with a blue lid, what was it. She asked for my finger, what was I supposed to do? give it too her or hide them? I decided to give her a try, with my delicate fingers. She uncapped that contraption, that would be the first on many. "Click" that was the last thing I heard, there was a little needle in there. Punctureing the soft flesh on my fingers, I could feel the blood starting to rush out of my finger

I could faintly hear her saying "Milk your finger!" Ummm? Milk my finger, how odd did that sound, there was only one thing I could think of too say back "What do you mean! My finger is NOT a cows utter!" Then the laughing started and my hearing came back, my finger still throbbing and my mind still confused, She brang this small thing towards me, it looked like an MP3 player. She stuck this little strip too my finger, the blood rushed up it like a vacume cleaner. What was it? What was happening? No one was answering me. There was only one thing I knew for sure I had diabetes. What! she was coming back, this time with..a needle and a vile! Gosh I hate needles soo much. It wouldn't hurt, I thought to myself.

"Your legs stomache or Arm?" She asked?

"Stomache?" I responeded with a confused tone of voice, she headed towards my stomach. Pulling up my shirt, The needle puntured my soft tissue, but the fluid in it, what was it doing. All those weeks of tiredness and thirst those feelings were now subsideing. Why? What was she putting into me? Why was it making feel this way? What was it doing? I guess the questions never really mattered, but I was getting better now thats what matters. It was like a miricale, a strange feeling, a feeling of relif and serenity. It was great, but I had no idea I was going to do that for the rest of my life.

I kinda remember being in the hospital, and now that I think about they never directly told me I had diabetes, I kinda just put the peices together. But I think something that will stick in my head forever is what the nurses repeatedly said "soon this will just be another part of your dailey routine" I never actually belived them. Untill, it actually became reality. But after that first day in the hospital after I woke up, I was diffrent. I was living life from a new perspective.

I'm a needle

It's flu season, people all around coming to the designated spot to get their vacsination. I'm the terrible thing that gives them the fluid, to pervent them from become sick. But the pain it brings after the fact. I hate my job, I cause people pain. Much pain, they tremble at the sight of me some even faint. I'm ashamed of myself I make small children cry I love children, I never want to see them cry, why was I made to bring pain when all I want them to feel is love. But they will thank me for the giving them the lovely fluid later.


The lines start to grow, the dirt covered unsanitary clinic is now filled. Unknowing of all the unsafe practises they do. I'm a reused needle, used for everyone that comes in for their shot. It's Gross and unsafe. And look, next in line. A small little boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Adorable, thats all I could say about him, his eyes they were misty. Not because he was dragged in here, but because he saw me. But it wasn't all of me, just my body my beautiful white and orange body, with numbers going up all the way to my neck. But then the cap popped off, his blue little eyes suddenly bulged out, a tear trickled down his face like rain drops on a car window. He knew the what the pain was going to be like, soon it wouldn't just be a figure of his imagination, all the pain would become real.


His mother started pulling him, into the office. My shiney metal needle put into that small vile of medicene, was it really medicene? He sat down in that grey chair, hyperventalating. The tears are now streaming down his face more like a tap then a car window. I come closer and closer to his arm about an inch away. "Relax" I heard the doctor exclaim. My feirce point punctureing his pasty white skin, deeper and deeper into his flesh, I hear a shreek. That blue liquid starts squirting out then I feel a tug then I'm out. On the counter all alone, the little boy still screaming, face red. I did that too him, that sweet little innocence gone replaced was pain. I wish I could warn him. That pain would be worse tomorrow, then the infection will come. TOO many people had used my sharpe point. The big, the small the fat and the skinny. All have used me to prevent becomeing sick well little did they knew, this very clinic was cheap, too cheap to buy more the one needle. There was nothing I could do I was an Inaniment object inable to move, inable to talk.



Rage filled me, I was used, more then once. The wrong way. I'm a use once and poperly dispose needle, it even thinks that on my package that I come with. Immature doctors, why did they even get their licesnse they aren't helping ANYONE! Saddness runs through me, where that gross liquid or 'medicene' should be. I hurt inside, sorrow runs through these vains! Well more like tube, but I wish, for one wish. And with that wish I would wish that I could be diffrent. Not a needle something more Hapy, something that brings joy to everyone like ummmm a Teddy Bear! One day maybe just maybe my wish will come true. But untill then I'm going to be a needle. Maybe even for ever.


It was now the end of the day my job was done, put into that yellow used needle box all loney. Going to disposale, maybe even turned into a new needle. Maybe next time I puncture someones beautiful skin, it will only be that one person. Not 30, maybe I will be given to a diabetic, used for good. To save someone's life, then that is when I would be proud. Proud of myslef and proud of my job. I just hope, I will not be put back into this Doctors office. But can I change? Can an inamiment object change, not on the outside but on the inside, cna I be used for good not evil, can I choose who I hurt? Can I choose who I save? I don't know if I can, but I will try.