Chapter 1 : Halloween fit for a pumpkin
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I looked up. This was another Halloween that I had been told about from my ancestors. True to their word, I had had a charm placed on me to look amazing. But why could people not appreciate that good things come in small packages? Besides, what was the advantage of having a face and a candle constantly burning into my head? Is this what I was for? Just a decoration and a way of livening something up, or making something look spooky. Ironic really, Halloween, celebration of the dead and the apparently vicious, and yet other objects and living things, are made to seem as though they are alive. Did they not realise that I, a pumpkin, had feelings?
That day, I was carved. I had a face cut in me. The need for that, I did not know. One good thing that did come about because of it, however, was that I was for the first time in my short life, able to see the magic that took place during the day they called Halloween. I noticed live bats, floating candles and other pumpkins, which may have been relatives, if such things existed in my life. I looked up, the candle that had been lit burning for at least an hour now, shining through my face. Sure, as a pumpkin, I was unable to move, but I was able to see, to hear, to think and to speak. I may not have been able to speak out loud and the lives of pumpkins were some what shorter than humans. Humans only created us to be used for Halloween. We were only created for the sake of a novelty, not because we were wanted. We were disposable.
So, why am I saying this? Why am I saying what I think? It’s simple really. I don’t have much more to do. I sit here; floating in mid air (which feels great by the way) and watching other students glance at me, not looking amazed because of the vast availability that we have been created for. They all glance at us, and then look away, all accept the first years, which look at us in awe. We know that we are magnificent, that we are intimidating to those scared of Halloween, but we know more than that; we know that Halloween wouldn’t be Halloween without us. We are special, even if no one cares enough to acknowledge it.
I looked at all the students seated at their tables eating and feasting on the vast amount of food that they were privileged with. Yes food. Their source of nutrition. Poor souls. They didn’t have to work for their food and so could not fully appreciate the taste of it. Being a pumpkin, I was forced to find my own nutrition from the ground. But this meant that I appreciated it all the same. It meant that I appreciated the value of it, even if the value of me is not. My one dream, is that one day, I will be wanted. Even better, needed. I have come to appreciate the humans that I have served. Not for making me a novelty, but because of what they don’t know that I know. My ancestors, when they die, are placed back into the pumpkin patch so that their nutrition can be recycled. Similarly, when I die, the same will happen to me. I will be needed for the thousands of other pumpkins in the generations to come. They will want me, need me and be dependant on me to survive. And in turn, I’ll exist in thousands of others, breathing the air they breathe and smelling the fresh earth as they do. This was what I wanted.
That is how I’ve grown to appreciate and respect humans. They may not know that I can think and exist, but they at least know that there is nothing more powerful for a pumpkin than its need to be wanted. I’m wanted by the students, the staff, the millions of other creatures that are alive. Just because I’m an item of novelty, does not make me unwanted or needed. It gives me pride to see that Halloween would not be the same if it wasn’t for me. I’m glad that before I die, I will be able to see the world that is legend, to see the magic that exists between magical and non-magical folks alike. To see more world than just the earth where I spent most of my short life. To see the shining stars in the sky again and most of all, to see the people, that I have finally grown to respect and appreciate the difference of their ways. This is what I believe; this is my story, the story of a wanted pumpkin. The story of a wanted pumpkin, fit for Halloween.
Well that's my random story! Tell me what you think about it and whether or not you liked it!