How I long for the day of black paper. I am the lost crayon that is never used. My purpose is to be thrown at someone or chopped in half, and its about to happen. I often wonder, what it would be like to be one of the better colors. To be the blue would feel great. These dweebs love to draw their sky that color, which always blew my mind, because the sky is white, but it’s just one of those things I guess. The moment is coming. These kids are getting restless. I am so desperate to keep going that I would even tolerate being one of the shit colors, like green or brown. Do you know how often these Twirps draw poop. Its obscene. There’s only so much Miss Scarlet can do for me now, my days are numbered.
I noticed a hand coming my direction to pull me out of my box. This was something abnormal for crayons like me. The other colors around were taken out on a regular basis and came back as often as they were taken. For me it was my first time and I knew what that meant. I was grabbed and placed in between both hands horizontally of the student that picked me. I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, everything happened so fast. The next thing I saw coming was another
By the same Author: Wendy’s Window Conspiracy
Gastradamus is my name and gassy topics are my game
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