writing prompt #3
first of all, i want to thank god for creating the tree where i came from.
to the tree, i owe you a lot. if not for me, you would not die. you’ve been there for a hundred and twelve years. you survived every storm and earthquake and landslide that passed by. you kept standing tall. throughout the years, whatever season, you’re there. yet if not for me, you would still endure another century. if not because of me, you would still be living.
you were chopped down from where you were peacefully rooted. you were disturbed by those loggers with their noisy chainsaws. you didn’t fight them. you didn’t run. you didn’t even hide. you just stood there and accepted the fate you didn’t deserve. you offered your life for me.
you were not buried. those bastards! they brought you to a big factory, along with your brothers who received the same ugly fate. you were chopped, piece by piece, part by part, vein by vein. you were shredded, cut, and minced. i couldn’t imagine how painful it was. you were tortured. it was like getting killed over and over again.
it was the greatest sacrifice for me.
the factory continued processing you. until i was born in a perfect shape – thin, spotless white, and rectangle. unlike you, who was irregular-shaped and wrinkled because of old age. no, i’m not criticizing you. i’m totally thankful to you, oh tree~
because of you, i was made possible.
for years, i silently waited inside my wrapper. i was thinking, “what purpose shall i serve in this world?” some school could turn me into a certificate of appreciation to some geek, and i will be laminated and preserved forever. i could be a telegram to the Pope. i could be the draft of a bestselling novel. i could be where the speech of the US president could be written.
years of waiting and pondering over my life didn’t prepare me to what would really happen today.
i didn’t do anything wrong. i remained as passive as i could. i sad on my stack peacefully and obediently until that asshole executive grabbed me and fed me to the printer. i was harassed by the laserjet, like my insides were churning, like i was being pressed and tickled at the same time. i wasn’t saying that i didn’t like it, but that’s not the whole point. well, i don’t know the point right now.
i don’t know anything right now.
anyway, i am near the end. i don’t have a choice but to accept it. my life is over. well, it’s not much of a life anyway. life is never fair. you see, you get punished for someone else’s mistake and stupidity. yes i know, i’m just bitter. there’s no justice in this world!
oh god! why did you ever let man invent the shredder? why?
(thoughts of a paper being put into the shredder.)