text: SPOILER: mild gore implied. You feel the warm grip of a thumb rubbing against your soapstone skin, you can feel the person contemplate buying it, vibrations from their voice, garbled speech you once upon a time might have bothered to understand, but now don't bother, they'll never care. You hear the clink of your body as the man sets you back down into your box filled with the lost souls of the reincarnates. Your days are short and they are always the same, if you're lucky enough to be bought you will be a gift or a good luck charm. But If your pain you suffered to be made into something beautiful and refined, carved away into intricate sculptures that mean something to special people is wasted, a wrong cut, an ugly pattern, a failed business, you'll be lost forever to the wishes of time. If you didn't get lucky you get tossed out, landfills, cliffs, or maybe you'll get a second chance. That's where my story takes place, behind me a hard life and one bad crack, a hammer head to my metamorphic body. But when I can finally find the pain bearable again I'm covered in duct tape. All I see is black, and I can feel this binding sensation like a corset. When I'm finally awake and the duct tape is removed. My body is still rigid and tight but different. I think I've been epoxied. I Spend my days Watching the refracted purple light flicker through me as cars pass by, blotting out the sun for fractions of a second and then retreating from their past place. People rub my purple resin or pick me up and watch the light pass through me often. But then one day someone picked me up and never put me back, I fell into a little paper bag with white stripes going across the standard brown paper. A couple coins and a paper receipt follow my descent and clatter across me and jingle happily as the bag slowly swings from side to side. I can feel the vehicle seat smoothly vibrate as the engine shakes the car. The car travels what I estimate to be around two hours before stopping. My new owner opens up the car door and then grabs the coins and the receipt out of the bag before I hear the clink of coins against more of their kind and the zipper of a billfold and the rustling of paper. I feel the shake of the car door and then the swinging of the bag back and forth until I hear the clatter of heels on hardwood floor and the clunk of a wreath on the front door, I feel the bag being set down on a coffee table and see a ceiling fan with three lights above me spin constantly. I sit in the bag for days or weeks, I hear the often chatter of my owner or the ceiling fan turns off when the light diminishes and all I can hear is the flickering of a candle and the heating unit run. One day my owner walks in the door and stuffs red and white paper into my bag, making it hot but cozy at I slide around in the bag traveling to the car. The car turns on and then as soon as we entered we left the car and walked through a threshold of a home, I can hear happy and excited chatter, dogs barking, childish voices, and amazing smells, chicken, cheese, mashed potatoes, and more. I sit on an entryway table until the night slowly sucks out the afternoon joy and the porch lights come on. I can hear hushed clothes and the crackling of fire, I can smell firewood, and marsh mellows, and then as the sun slowly rises I hear trickling and the sound of life. I can feel the warmth of a hand grasp me and then the excited squeals of an excited woman. The next day I'm swinging from a keychain, back and forth until the car stops moving and then repeated over and over again, twice a day, five times a week. I finally bother to understand human language, I grow attached to my human, a short woman with red hair, and weird socks. then one day everything changes. I hear violent screams coming from the car itself, my owner wakes up and lets out a shrill shriek of fear. I can hear screams and commanding voices, orders for her to "Shut the hell up you stupid bitch!" and I am enraged. How can any one how dangerous they may be, insult the woman who gave me the joy of life, a home, something entertaining about my life? I sit on the floor of the car under the steering wheel, not being able to see anything but being able to hear everything, her desperate screams for help, a crack and then choking sounds, and then the screams died down. I passed out in rage, at my useless body, how could I not help her, why would anyone do this? Why are humans so selective on what they deem important, with no regard for other's life? And when I awoke I could move, not just feel, I moved in fluid motions being able to pass through anything and being a transparent gray. Then I saw him, a humanoid shape made out of rock with 4 arms, hundreds of eyes everywhere, and then a large crown of rocky spikes atop his head, 37 points on each side with blood splatters on the points of his crown. His eyes watched me stare at him in amazement, hundreds of eyes all suspicious slits of lime, staring me down, each one analyzing something about me. And then I heard it, his voice, A collection of noises in a language I didn't know but still understood, screams and shrieks filled the black marble hall, big black pillars and a huge throne encrusted with clear diamonds. He said "I have a deal for you, I am the god of Dispair, and I have something you want." I stared at him cautiously, his image flicked with a green hue that Desperately tried to get away from him. "I will give you the satisfaction of knowing your human's soul is safe and returned to her body in exchange for your soul's constant torture." He snapped his finger and white light blinded me temporarily, when my vision returned, A massive silver birdcage appeared, with a small floating chisel attached to the ceiling via chain. it hung ominously, as the door slowly squealed open. I tried to speak but just a small croak exited my mouth, The god laughed, a grim collection of sounds never meant to be heard. "You cannot speak, can you? you spent an eternity as a rock, for silence and peace, and this is your consequence." I muttered a Small croak "hhi'll dhoo iht, I'll dho iht" I repeated it over and over until I finally managed to muster "I'll dho it." "Good enough for me." I passed out before awaking to the intense pain of being stabbed over and over, but at least she is alive.