In my earliest days, I lived in a store called Macy’s. Life in there was fantastic! I loved hearing the cheerful sounds of young boys and girls racing into the store. I also loved the tranquil sounds of silence at night after closing hours. I would listen to these noises every day without getting tired of them. After a while, though, I started to feel lonely. I wanted to go out there, into the world, and have an owner to feel comfort in me, and wear me. Silently, I longed for that day to come.

One day, a teenage boy came into the store. He had on blue distressed jeans and a deep red tee with the “Adidas” logo on it. He wore rugged, worn-down sandals on his feet, and on his head, a mushroom-like haircut, with lots of body hair on his arms. He seemed friendly to me, and I hoped he’s pick me. Please pick me, please pick me… Yes, he’s coming over here, and… Oh my gosh! He’s picked me! The rest was a blur, for the next thing I know, I’m in the trunk of the car, thinking ecstatic thoughts about my new life, but little did I know this experience would change my life forever.

That night, I was too excited to sleep. The thought of the boy wearing me kept me up all night. In the morning, the boy took me out of the hanger and put on me and some jeans on. He brushed his teeth rapidly, then hurried downstairs to prepare a bowl of Cheerios. By the time he finished, I wore half his cereal! On the school bus, I sniffed an awful stench! At first I thought it was from the cereal, or me. But then, I knew it must be from somewhere else; I just couldn’t figure it out. When the boy sat down at his desk, I realized that the boy had forgotten his deodorant this morning! The rest of that day was a disaster: The boy got sent to the nurse’s office, as well as a note to take home to his mother. After I got home, I thought, “The boy was in quite a rush to get to school this morning. Maybe he overslept, or in the hustle, just forgot. I’m sure things will be a lot better the next time the boy wears me”.

Two days later, the boy wore me to school again. He rushed to the bathroom to brush his teeth rapidly, and he forgot to wear deodorant again! He rushed downstairs to make some toast and chocolate milk. By the time he was done eating, half his milk was on my exterior! Nobody wanted to sit within fifty feet of him, and the children complained about the boy to the teacher, so the teacher sent the boy to the nurse, where she scolded him about not taking care of his hygeine. I realized I was stuck with this boy for the next few years, unless I think of plans to escape.

That night, I devised a few plans to escape this predicament. The first plan was to shrink in the wash. So, when the mother put me into the wash, I prayed I would shrink in the washer. When I got out however, I was still the same size. So I tried Plan B: to change color in the wash. No matter how many times I tried to mix in with the reds, I still was my plain white color when the wash was over. Thus, I had no choice but to move on to Plan C: wait for the boy to stop liking me, or wait until I become a hand-me-down. I decided to make Plan C a long-term project to see what would work out in the future.

After four long-suffering years of being owned by the boy, he finally left for college! And thus, I am not owned by the boy anymore, but by his younger brother, who was now entering high school! And I am happy to report that he takes great care of his hygeine. I was happy to get the carefree life I deserved. This story just goes to show that even in a cloudy sky, there is one ray of hope that lurks into the clouds. And that one ray is what counts.