Discarded

This was an assignment for my advanced creative writing class, and I had so much fun with it, I thought I'd post it here! The idea was that we had to write from the perspective of an inanimate object.

For most of my time, I am locked away in this purple, velvety prison, stowed away until I am deemed necessary once again. I am one of many; while I can see nothing in the foreboding darkness, I hear their voices. The pitiful wails of those that - while once beloved - were now abandoned and left to cope with this crushing solitude. 

Eventually, they will grow used to it. That glimmer of hope shining within them will soon die out and grow as black as that which surrounds us. Once they finally realize that they have truly been forgotten, that they will never be sought out again, then they will know true despair. Inevitably, they will become an eternal part of the darkness. 

It’s what I went through when I first arrived here. While faint, the memories of my first moments here remain. I, like them, screamed and cried out, hoping that my pleas would be heard. She would return for me after realizing her mistake, and I would have purpose in my life once again. 

How naive I was. I am now as jaded as the stones embedded within me, and soon the others will be too. That is simply the way of life in this velvet box. I’ve accepted my fate, and they should too. Things will just be easier that way. Less disappointment. 

However, as I was finishing that thought, the darkness was suddenly ripped away. Bright light filled the space in which I was contained. For a few moments, I was blinded, unable to see anything around me. 

Excited, incoherent chatter bubbled up amongst the others around me. From the bits and pieces of talking I was able to understand, it seems that they thought she had come to select one of them. Fools, the lot of them. Their ignorance knows no bounds. The only instances in which the sun would ever shine in here would be a new addition amongst our midst. Another poor soul to add to our collective misery.

Sure enough, the box quickly closed, shutting away the hope-filled light. No one had left. Rather, a new, confused voice joined in with the anguished cries. A fresh victim for this bubbling pot of agony. The latest sacrifice for the ravenous belly of darkness.

Author's Note

For anyone curious, the inanimate object that I chose to write about was a pair of earrings. Please let me know if you have any suggestions or edits!