My Life as a Can of Soup | Teen Ink

My Life as a Can of Soup

September 16, 2010
By kayla_nicole BRONZE, Oblong, Illinois
kayla_nicole BRONZE, Oblong, Illinois
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I am being packed in a box. "Ouch, not so hard!" There are nineteen other cansin the box with me. I can barely breathe! I feel the box being lifted up. I think we're being put on a truck. I hear a loud Slam! as the door gets shut. It seems as if I'll be here for a while. I hear the truck starting up, and it begins to move. This is the worst situation possible! It's hot, I can barely breathe, all of the cans are vibrating together, it's dark, and I'm BORED! I try to make conversation with the other cans, but they ignore me. After a very, very long time, the truck finally comes to a stop. Someone opens the door of the truck and unloads the boxes. As my luck would have it, my box was the last to be unloaded. We are now on some sort of cart or wagon. The person wheels us for about 200 feet, then comes to a stop. I think we're in a building now. Then we are unloaded off of the cart. Now I gusee we just wait. I hate this SO MUCH! I still can't see, so I have no idea where we are and no sense of time. Finally, after what I estimated to be two weeks, someone lifts up the box. We are being carried somewhere. We get set back on the floor. Oh no! I will NOT just sit here for another two weeks! But wait! Now I hear someone opening the box! LIGHT! I see a beautiful woman. I feel as if I have died and gone ot heaven. She is now placing us on a shelf. Now she walks away. I whisper, "Goodbye! Thank you!" I examine my surroundings. I see almost every kind of soup possible- vegetable, chicken noodle, tomato, cream of mushroom, and more. Across the aisle I see boxes that read "Mac 'N Cheese." I don't know what this means. Lots of people walk by- happy couples, hunched over old ladies, mothers with screaming children. Some of the people stop to get soup, but why won't they pick me? I wait and wait, but I don't get chosen. Now I'm sad. After several hours, I hear a voice that appears to come from nowhere that says, "Attention shoppers, MegaMart is about to close. Please make your final purchases and exit the building. Thank you for shopping with us!" I now feel hopeless. But hten, an young lady who appeared to be about 20 grabbed me off of the shelf. She carries me to the front of the store and sets me on some kind of moving table. Hey, this is kind of fun! The table-thing comes to a stop. A man with a moustache picks me up, scans me, and puts me in a bag. The lady gives the man some kind of paper and picks up the bag. She carries me out of the store, into the parking lot, and tehn we arrive at her car. She opens the door, sets me in the passenger seat, closes the door, starts the car, and drives away. I hear more mysterious voices, but this time they're singing. I think I like it! After a little while, we arrive at her house. The lady brings the car to a stop, turns it off, and picks me up from the seat. She carries me into her house, sets me on a counter, and takes me out of the bag. Then she opens a drawer and pulls out --- Oh, no, it can't be! A CAN OPENER! I scream and fight and struggle, but to no avail. She uses it on me anyways. Ow, it hurts SO BAD! I have never been in so much pain! And I thought this lady was my FRIEND! Wait, the pain is over. She has cut off my head! Now she pulls out a bowl and dumps my contents into it. (Oh, I had mushroom soup inside of me!) I feel empty and useless. The lady tosses me into a trashcan. Ah, my life sucks.

The author's comments:
This was an English assignment, where we had to write from the point of view of some object. It took me awhile to think of something, but once I got an idea, I wrote it in aobut 20 minutes. I hope you enjoyed it!

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