Crayons

My captors bought me and my family from a dealer. They keep us in a box so small everyone has to stand up. we were kept in the box for what felt like months but I couldn’t really tell because they hid us in a dark room, the only light that use to seep through the little crack in the top was my only source of hope and it had long since disappeared. But one day I heard the door open and light poured through the top once again, but instead of filling me with hope it filled me with dread. If they came to get us they must have something horrible planned for my family, I heard them pick us up and what sounded like us being zipped up in a bag.

After a really bumpy ride we heard a bunch of people walking around. We were all confused, not knowing what they planned to do with us, but we were in no rush to find out. after what sounded like us entering a building we were set down and heard tons of people talking, but suddenly they all stopped talking when an older persons voice told them to sit down, they all sat down and this older women told everyone to get they’re box of my species out of their bags. we heard the sound of other bags being unzipped and people dropping their boxes on what sounded like a metal desk, and when my box was picked up and put on a desk, the top opened and harsh light came pouring in, and before our eye’s could adjust to the light I heard the high pitched shriek of my cousin Yellow being picked up by a giant hand. I tried to grab him but he was out of my reach, so I peeked over the side of my box to see what they were gonna do with him. And what they did. What they did was worse than I could imagine. a little person held Yellow in their hand and a quick look around revealed that everyone else was holding one of my species in their hands. A-. . . and they scraped the heads of my species against paper and were using their blood to write with. The humans didn’t even notice the screams of agony cried out by the bodies of my species they were using. Watching Yellow getting dragged across the paper was like watching cheese get grated. The screams quickly ended when their heads were all grated off, and when our captor was done writing they put Yellows body back in the box in the spot right next to me. I did my best to not throw up, what these people were doing was savage, I felt sad that Yellow died in such a gruesome way, but little did we know that he wouldn’t be the only one used. over the next couple of months our captor did the same thing with the rest of my family. Sometimes they would lose a family member they were using and I hoped that meant they escaped, but most of the time they would return the bodies, sometimes broken in half, some with the sides of their bodies instead of their heads grinded off. Soon everyone was completely grinded away and that left me, the only one my captor didn’t use. I guess he doesn’t like white crayons.