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The Story of a Flipper
I used to be apart of a swim team. They would use flippers to help them move faster. I had another friend who was worn on the left foot, except he was very quiet. I never got to know what his name really was but I always called him John. My owners name was Ryan. Ryan had the lightest blonde hair I have ever seen and he was very skinny. I never understood as too why he shaved his legs everytime he had a swim meet. I mean he was only an 18 year old senior in high school. But I guess body hair slowed him down. Ryan and I grew very close. I would help him win every swim team he ever made into. It made me so happy when he’d finish swimming, he would take me and John off of his feet and throw us on the cold, wet ground from excitement. Seeing his joyful face as he runs up and gives a high five to his teammates gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling that made me feel happier than ever because I was the reason that he won.
Until one day he didn’t use us, he was never home. I heard him and his mom talking about college. Whatever that is. It would be months on end where I didn’t see him. John and I would lay there on the scratchy carpet in his closet. I felt lonely. John never talked, every time I would talk he wouldn’t say anything but sigh. I would always crack jokes, or tell him different things that come to mind like, what if Ryan was a multi millionaire surfer and he would come back and we’d all live in a giant mansion? One can only dream I guess. Days later, I was trying to find shapes in the little specks of the drywall when I heard a rush of wind, I heard what sounded like things being lifting up into the air with the wind and getting smashed into the ground. All of a sudden, the closet door flies right off the hinges and John and I were thrown out into the sky. I was so scared I kept my eyes closed, I didn’t want to say a word, I didn’t want to scream or move. I was very still, just listening to the rushing sounds of the wind and I was ready for the worst. I open my eyes and I see the deep, blue ocean. John and I start to fly toward the ocean when a car lifts straight up into the air. I slam against the car and everything turns black. That was the last time I ever saw John.
I wake up and I am on my back. All I hear is water all around me. It felt like I was floating there for years. Just listening to waves not knowing where I was going because all I could see was sky. I have been trying to flip over on my side so I could see what is going on but I would just flip over into the water. Suddenly an old lady picks me up from the ocean and throws me into a bag of garbage. I have no idea how long I was in that bag but it felt like months. She takes me and the other garbage to her little beach home. It looked like a tiny shack that had vines covering the doors and windows. Her house was also very hidden within a dozen of palm trees. As she walks inside still carrying me in this garbage bag. She sets the bag onto the ground and tears the bag open. She lays me and all the garbage on top of a giant blue tarp that has been placed on her carpet. I take a look around and notice that she has garbage all over her walls, except they have been painted beautifully with scenery. She goes through all the garbage on the floor, picking up different pieces and placing them together with a confused look on her face. With the other pieces of garbage she would pick up and pretend that they have been hung on the wall. Suddenly she lifts me up and I can finally see the rest of her house. We walk over to the kitchen, jumping and stepping over art supplies that are covering her floor. There are canvases everywhere and some of the painted garbage is hanging on a clothesline that goes across her whole house. She lifts me up and places me above the yellowed out microwave. And she walks away.
She comes toward me with a chair in her hand and a huge notebook with a thousand pencils in the other. She sits down and just stares at me. I get a closer look at her and she looks fragile like, wrinkly and has white curly hair that sticks almost straight up. Hours go by and she is still just sitting on her grey fold up chair doing something on that giant notebook. She finally gets up, takes a final look at me, and walks away. It's dark and quiet it's so quiet all I hear is the waves crashing into the shore. It's so dark I can’t see much except for the 6 inches of light that the bottom of the microwave gives off. I sit there for hours wondering where this old lady went it's like time was in slow motion. I fall asleep and wake up still sitting on top of the microwave that is sitting above the stove. I see her walking around in a fuzzy light blue gown with bright pink fuzzy slippers. She picks me up, places me back on the blue tarp, and she kneels down grabbing a paint brush. She paints my entire face. And I couldn’t see a single thing. Everything went blue. That is all I could see. Blue. Afterwards, I could feel her cold hands lift me up high into the air but where has she put me? She places me somewhere. But where could I be? I am still in her home but I just have this feeling that I am high in the air. I start to panic and breath heavily. Over my heavy breathing I hear a voice that says “It's okay, we’re safe now” I have no idea who could have said that but their presence… just feels so familiar… “John?”
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