Don't-Know-What-To-Call-This-Thing ...From Winterfell!

3) Stone

3) Stone

Being a stone is harder then it looks. No really! Do you think it's fun when a couple of kids find you and decide to kick you around to fill the void of not having a ball? 

 Well, it's not! It's not fun to leave a place you've gotten use to.

The smaller you are the harder life you have. 

 I used to be a part of a glorious rock at the central park. But through time as I got older, I had to leave my family.

 It's the normal life of our kind. You start off at a rock. You leave and become smaller, if you are lucky, you get picked up and travel the world, or turned in to a scupture and be a form of art. Then, you get smaller and smaller. Untill you are just a grain of sand, swept away with the wind. I would have loved to be a sculpture and be observed and admired by billions of humans, but sadly I am too old for that now.

 It's like that for most of us. 

 We don't really call ourselves 'stones' like you humans do. ...Actually, I don't even know what we call ourselves.

 You see, we don't really get the chance to talk to each other. Once you leave the rock. You keep changing places. 

 I can't say that my life wasn't eventful, I really enjoyed it. 

...Most of the time.

 Yes, the first time I left my family, I was scared. Because in the family, no one has really gone through it yet. No one knows how the life is.

I remember the first time a human touched me.

 It was three years after I left the rock. I felt like I was going to get smaller and smaller at the same place. Not having the chance to see the world. But to my luck, a little boy, named Luke picked me up. He found me... Beautiful.

 He was, four or five years old. 

 When he found me, my first feeling was fear. He grabbed me and wiped the dirt off me. He ran over to his parents.

 "What is that you have there Luke?" his mother asked curiously. 

 "A rock!" He said, I felt offended. 

 His parents laughed. "That's not a rock silly!" His mother said. 

 "It's beautiful!" Luke said.

 "You want to keep it?" His father asked, Luke nodded with his head. 

 He placed me in his pocket. It was so dark in there, yet I felt a new feeling.

...Safety. 

When I was out of his pocket I was in a completely different place. There was no sky, no earth, no bugs or anything. This place looked... Human.

 Luke examined me closely, his blue eyes were open wide. 

 "Time for bed Luke." his father said, picking up. He kept holding me. 

 That night, he placed me next to him while he slept. I kept exploring new feelings. 

 Time passed, he grew up. One day, he got a bigger bed. His room changed, he got a bigger table to study. 

 He of course forgot about me. He placed me on his table, next to a framed picture of his parents. I watched him grow up. 

 His parents bought him a computer when he was 10. He would spend almost all of his time on it. And I would watch him. Everyday.

 I sometimes wished that he would pick me up and examine me again. But, I was happy that he was happy. 

 Two years later, his mother gave him an assignment. 'Get rid of the stuff you don't use anymore.'