Happy October, Bloggers! Today's prompt is, “Write in the perspective of a ball of yarn being chased by a cat.” Well. This should be interesting.
It all started when I was plucked from the Bin.
You see, the Bin is where we all end up, one way or another. Well, I suppose some don't make it, since I've witnessed fellow balls of yarn being trashed for no reason whatsoever. It really makes me shudder to think about it, to tell you the truth. What's the point of being created if you're just going to be destroyed?
Well, the vast majority of us yarn (we call ourselves “Rolls”) end up in a Bin. There are thousands upon thousands of Bins all over the world, and each one contains a varying number of Rolls. I was put in a Bin someplace in Kansas, from what I've been told. A green Roll, which happened to tumble next to me when we were being dumped inside the Bin, told me that we were in a store.
“What kind of a store?” I had asked him.
“Something with the word 'fabrics' in it,” he said.
“We're in a fabric store?”
“Well, what do you expect? After all, we are balls of yarn.”
So, living in the Bin wasn't too much of a drag. I had plenty of Rolls to talk to, and I always found it entertaining to watch the humans browse around the store. Once in a while, I was lifted up and scrutinized. And then, when they glanced at the small white tag next to our Bin, I was quickly set back down again. Some of the other Rolls were taken away, but we never really talked about that. We all liked to think that we'd never be kidnapped, so we refused to think about tragedies such as that.
I can't tell you how long I'd been in that Bin, nestled in between my fellow Rolls. All I knew was that it was comfy there, and I didn't want to leave.
Of course, nothing goes the way I want it to.
It happened without warning. Judging by the humans' numerous wrappings, it must have been a chilly time of year. In previous years, Rolls would be snatched from the Bin at a quicker rate around this time, but my kind of yarn wasn't so popular anymore. In my Bin, all the Rolls were simply one color. Most of us were a solid red, green, blue, or yellow. But, a couple months before, a new Bin was added to our shelf. Inside were fancy, multicolored Rolls that flashed their vivid colors arrogantly. At first, we all took it as some form of competition. But, as we realized that they distracted the humans from us, we saw them as a blessing.
Because of this, I had not been expecting to be taken by a human anytime soon. My color was fading, anyway, and I wasn't nearly as vibrant as the new Rolls.
To this day, I still wonder why the small girl with pigtails decided to snatch me from the Bin.
I wasn't even facing her when it happened. I was turned around, looking at the blue Roll next to me. We were talking lightly about things we probably wouldn't remember the next day, simply enjoying ourselves. Suddenly, though, the Roll shouted out, “Hey, behind you!”
“Someone's gonna –”
He didn't have time to finish. As soon as I felt giant, pudgy fingers wrapping around me, I knew that I was being taken away from the place in which I had spent the majority of my life. Too startled to even let out a yelp of surprise, I watched the Bin grow smaller as I was lifted higher into the air.
Facing me was a girl of about six years. She was missing two of her top teeth, making her look like she had fangs when she opened her mouth. Her short, blonde hair was pulled back into two pigtails, and her eyes were a stony gray.
“This one!” she yelled shrilly. I stared back at her, defenseless.
“That's the one you want?” asked a rather plump woman. “But it's so plain.”
“I don't care,” spat the girl. “I want it. Bailey can play with it.”
Bailey? I thought, becoming anxious. What's a “Bailey?”
“Fine, but not for very long. I don't want it to get ruined,” sighed the woman. “Let's just go home already.”
* * *
“Bailey, c'mere! I got something for you at Jo-Ann Fabrics! Mommy, is Bailey outside?”
After what seemed like centuries, I was brought back into the light of day from the depths of a thin, plastic sack. The world surrounding me momentarily caused me to forget my anxiety at being plucked from the Bin.
All around me, vibrant colors pumped through each and every object like blood being pumped through veins. It seemed as though there was no end to the blue ceiling above me; it simply stretched on as far as I could see. Green giants sprouted from the floor at every turn, being as still as statues. Below me was a soft, fluffy bed of green – it was unlike any rug I had ever laid eyes upon. The sounds were odd, as well. Once in a while, a sharp musical note would ring through the gargantuan room, emanating from the lungs of small beings that were perched on the giants. What is this magnificent place? I wondered, marveling at the sights, smells, and sounds that had never graced my senses in the past. I've never seen a store like this before.
The piercing voice of the girl snapped me back to reality. “There you are, Bailey!” Her fingers squeezed me until I thought I was going to burst. In pain, I glanced down to see who this Bailey character was and why it was causing the girl to become so riled up.
The second I laid eyes on it, I could feel fear push and shove its way into my stomach. If I was able to, I would have hopped right out of the girl's grip and kept on hopping until I found the exit to the enormous store we were in.
Directly below me was a beast so terrifyingly ferocious that it was more than my subconscious could ever possibly conjure during my darkest, most vivid nightmares. It almost resembled a human, but a few key things told me that it most definitely was not. For one, it was holding itself up with both its hands and its feet. They didn't look like hands and feet, either; its fingers were rather short, and its nails were rather sharp. The beast was coated in a silky coat of short, black hair, and its nearly glowing eyes shot daggers at me. Its ears almost looked like two giant triangles at the top of its head, turning quickly from left to right as though they were watching some sort of tennis game. As it examined me, I noticed that attached to its rear end was something that looked like a third leg, minus the toes. It was swaying back and forth calmly, not pausing once.
If this happens to be Bailey, I'll be dead in a New York minute.
“I've got something for you, Bailey!” chirped the girl. “You can play with it out here for a while.”
And, with that, the girl's grip on me loosened and I found myself trapped in midair. With an unsettling thud, I landed on the bed of green, which proved not to be so soft at all. After rolling for a bit, I was left staring at the vast blue ceiling, unable to do anything for myself. Before I could even register my current predicament, however, a shadow fell upon me. Terrified, I found myself face-to-face with the giant, four-legged beast. It bent down and gave me a quick whiff, coming so close that I was able to smell its putrid breath. After examining me, the creature reached up its hand, revealing five razor-sharp claws. With a swift movement, it swiped at me, causing me to roll a bit further.
What did I do? I asked myself. What did I do to deserve this?
I don't know how long it went on. The beast chased me around for what seemed like hours, never appearing to grow tired. With each blow, I could feel myself slowly coming apart. I began to see unraveled bits of red yarn on the floor, and with a jolt, I realized they were coming from me. So, this is how it's going to end, then, I thought, defenseless against the giant being. After I survived so many years in the Bin, this is how I'm going to die.
After a while, the pain began to subside. The beast continued to jump and scratch at me, but I grew immune to its blows. Weakly, I began to contemplate the meaning of a Roll's life. What was the meaning of this life, anyway? Us rolls of yarn can't do anything; we're completely immobile. For the majority of our dull lives, we're clumped together in a Bin, unable to do anything but halfheartedly converse with our neighbor. Why do Rolls even have the ability to think for themselves?
* * *
I was close to blacking out. The beast was pressed against me, chewing on what was left of my frayed yarn with its piercing teeth. Then, suddenly, I felt its weight being lifted off me. Feebly, I glanced at who had pulled the creature away. Above me was the mother of the small girl, holding the monster as though it were some kind of rag doll. “Bailey, no!” she was shouting. “You've nearly ruined the entire ball of yarn! Monique, I told you Bailey could play with it for a little while.”
Relief settled over me like a heavy blanket. She's saved me, I thought thankfully.
“I'm sorry, Mom,” I heard the girl say. “I forgot about it.”
“Oh, never mind. Just take Bailey inside and feed her, okay?”
I struggled to maintain consciousness as Monique took the writhing creature from her mother's hands. Suddenly, I was off the ground, being lifted by someone. Through my blurred vision, I could see the woman's soft eyes gazing down at me. “Well,” she said, chuckling, “Bailey sure messed you up a bit.”
You got that right, I thought, grateful that she was finally taking me out of my misery.
That is, until she opened her mouth to speak again.
“I hope you'll still look fine as a winter hat for Monique.”
My heart shattered. A winter hat?