A pincushion. People might think it a glamorous life. The cute little stuffed ball you stick your pins in. The stressball substitute to be rolled between your fingers.
I was off to a glorious life as I left the factory. I was unceremoniously crammed into a box with my twin brothers and sisters. It was a long, crowded journey and we reached what we thought was our new home. We were lined up on a shelf to be displayed, oh how we preened and waited impatiently to show off for our audience. I was complemented on my round shape, my velvety exterior and bright red color.
There were others like us that fed us stories of piercing little pains when pins were stuck into us. I blew them off. Some of the bigger needles liked to tease about vengeful little hands stabbing us repeatedly. I did my best to ignore them.
One of my sisters disappeared first. Then a brother. It was quite alarming. Then one day a dour looking woman appeared over us. She had blondish-gray hair that was pulled into a tight bun. Bright blue eyes looked us over in a scrutinizing manner. She plucked a couple of us up, squeezing us. We were the exact same proportions, identical.
I suppose I was a bit plumper, if I do say so myself, which was a good trait for a pincushion. And she did comment on my sturdiness. Her fingers were rather dry I thought, wrinkled and bony, and she didn’t smile much. She muttered a lot about her ‘harum-scarum niece’ and how I could assist in her training.
So then I was put in a basket and bounced around as she paid some other woman for me- who knew I was worth so much! I was on my way - onward to the next great adventure!
At least, I thought I was. The woman, Alicia, as I would come to find out, was a bit of an odd character. She talked to herself a lot. She had a lovely fluffy white feline she called Her Royal Highness Sophie, who generally ignored me and went on about her day. Days which included a lot of naps and a lot of eating.
Alicia put me into another box, where I was joined by some squat rolls of thread, needles, and a little pair of scissors. We chatted amongst ourselves, becoming quite the family. The needles were from China or so they claimed and the thread didn’t seem very bright. It just sat there. The scissors had a nice sharp wit and thought themselves quite clever.
Things went dark at one point, and Alicia’s voice became muffled. Apparently banished to this dark place, we drifted off into a quiet slumber.
I was rudely awoken by loud shouting, and upheaval of being tossed around. We were jostled quite a bit, then suddenly light cut through the darkness, and we were being peered at by a pair of big blue eyes, not unlike Alicia’s. But this woman was younger, with unruly blond curls and freckles. A girl really, who wrinkled up her nose at the sight of us, then chewed on her lip.
“Whatcha got Trix?” another young face, similar but smaller, rounder and male appeared. “what is it?”
This boy was trouble, I could feel it in my stuffing. His front tooth was missing and behind that cherubic face I could see it. Trouble. Danger.
“Um, thank you Aunt Alicia, it’s really nice,” the girl, Trix – what a beastly name!- said in a most unconvincing manner.
Alicia began to enthusiastically explain what all the different sized needles were for, but it was apparent that Trix wasn’t interested. She was staring jealously at another boy, who had just received something I couldn’t quite see.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and then there was a lot of cleaning. We were whisked away out of sight, and forgotten for several days.
Eventually, we were taken down a hallway, and up a ladder. The room was dark and we were tossed in a corner.
Time passed, I don’t know how much and we all grew irate with each other. The needles argued amongst themselves, the scissors wit grew dull.
Time stood still yet taunted us and then one day, a beam of light found us. Hope turned to dread as a small hand grabbed me roughly. I would have protested but of course, the boy wouldn’t hear me. For it was the boy, the chubby little creature with dirty hands.
“I’ll hide it in here. Trixie won’t never know,” he muttered, inspecting me closely. When he reached for the scissors, I began to panic.
Pain. Oh the pain. That little wretch forced scissors into me, leaving a gaping hole. My stuffing began to spill out as his fat little fingers dug into me, violating my lovely self. Something was stuffed inside, and then he tossed me back into the box.
I lay aching for a long time. Cobwebs settled over us. Occasionally something with many legs would scuttle by.
Then he returned. I cried little beans as his chubby little digits dug into me again. Whatever he had stuck in me, he took back and once again, I was carelessly thrown aside.
Yet more time passed and the dust settled and the cobwebs reclaimed their ground. More creatures with multiple legs visited. It got hot. Then one day, the light returned. I prepared for the worst. It was a male, but the older one. He had a tender touch, inspecting me closely, and mumbling in words I could never begin to pronounce. He too, stuffed something in me, but he returned me gently to the case.
Resigned to my fate, I prepared to face the darkness. Unexpectedly, the boy came back very soon after, and took his treasure again. Setting me back in my case, he left me.
It was only a short time later that I was released from the depths of hopelessness. A lovely young lady
with big hazel eyes and soft, gentle fingers rescued
me from my confines. Gazing at me sympathetically,
she took me out of the darkness, into the light and on
another great quest. The wind whipped around me as we
journeyed, through the meadow of grass, skirting the
edge of the deep forest, across the shore of the water
and up the path to a new home. She lovingly mended my
wounds and nestled me softly into a different basket,
this one filled with items that radiated worth and
usefulness. Here, I remain to this day.
The End
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