I sat sadly in the cold, dark, recycling bin. It was so dark in this kitchen at night. I thought back about my day. But especially the scary part.
I had been sitting in the fridge, minding my own business, when an overweight, Filthy, pug-faced child opened the fridge door.
“Mom “he barked in a rough, deep, voice. “yes” answered a much sweeter voice. “We don’t have any juice” said the gorilla- like boy. “Have some Root beer then” said the sweet voice. The boy grabbed me by the waist.
From my point of view, I could see he needed a good hand washing. Why had that sweet voice called me Root beer? Why was this filthy child lifting me into the air? So many questions. All of a sudden the boy popped my lid! “Hey” I wanted to shout but I knew even if I tried he would not be able to understand me.
He lifted me to his chapped lips and began drinking my insides. Oh, how gruesome I thought. After he finished his disgusting deed, he threw me into a weird, blue, thing called a recycling bin.
I was uncomfortable and quite cramped. I had stayed in that exact spot all day and now here I was lonely, tired, and completely empty. Oh well, I thought could be worse. Soon I was snoring with all the other cans.
I awoke to a strange crunching sound. Oh wait, I had heard that sound before. It was the can refund machine! Oh no, I thought over and over.
The sweet voiced woman grabbed me and shoved me into the machine. Meanwhile, the obnoxious boy was begging for sweets. I slid down a large chute and slid into a cart. As soon as the last can came, the cart jolted.
“I’ve had this happen to me before” said a can “The people recycle you”. It sounded painful to me but as soon as I entered the room I felt better. There were miles and miles of cans. Now I knew I would never be lonely again.