Plastic Bag

---

Plastic Bag

They told me it's out there.

The Pacific vortex.

Paradise.

You may be thinking:

"Hey, shut up and enjoy

the sun set, you idiot. "

Well, I do not care what you think.

No one needs me here, anymore.

Not even my maker.

Do you know her by chance?

Have you seen her?

My first breath.

I met my maker.

I had a purpose.

She was quick to accept me into her home,

and make me part of her life.

But she also gave me my independence.

I met her friends.

She trusted me.

She showed me what

she knew of the world.

I didnt understand all her running around...

...but I always cheered her on.

This was shocking.

This brought me closer to her than ever before.

My skin against her skin.

My cold, her warmth.

I made her happy, and she made me happy.

I thought we would be together forever.

Until I met her own private monster.

Look at this beast!

How could she prefer this one to me?

What could this thing do?

Nothing but slobber all over me!

She spent less and less time with me.

But I still did everything for her.

I thought it must have been a mistake.

That she was worried sick about me.

I imagined her crying:

Where is he, where is he?!

Nothing could destroy me.

Flying monsters coming to peck at me.

And the darkness began.

I dont know for how long,

and what did it really matter.

The world decomposed,

it was eaten by monsters,

some too small for me to even see.

Not me! I remained.

I was strong and smart and

I would find my maker, hah!

I had holes,

but overtime I learned how to use them to navigate the wind

and I could fly.

I was free.

Or so I thought.

Sometimes I had to wait

And wait.

I searched everywhere for our home,

hoping to find her.

Destruction.

Desolation.

There was nothing.

She never came.

I thought this was her.

But there was nobody left.

I did not want to think about her anymore.

She had forgotten me,

and I would forget her too.

I went to worlds I had never seen.

What kind of giant monsters had lived here?

And where were they now?

No matter how far I travelled,

there were always new worlds to see.

I wonder if my maker knew such places existed.

They looked like my makers beastie,

only bigger.

I served no purpose to them.

Monsters, be gone!

And sometimes the world

was even too great for me.

And sometimes,

the waiting drove me mad.

Wasnt she beautiful?

She was also searching for her maker.

I didnt need a maker anymore,

I only needed her.

The winds drifted us apart

and I was alone again.

Where am I going?

Who was I?

Was that me?

I looked just like the earth,

and I turned around, and I saw the sun

and I looked like that too.

But I was still lost.

And thats when I first

learned about the Vortex.

They had chained themselves here on purpose,

in order to preach about the Vortex.

It was a world in the Pacific Ocean,

where a hundred million tons of us had gathered.

They said there was no maker.

Said ...

"We are the creators."

They said in the Vortex we were free.

It was Paradise.

They told me to go there,

to join the others.

And I was born again,

and I reached out my hand to touch.

They looked just like me.

And with time I learned to use

the currence of the water,

as I had used the currence of the wind.

And I went searching for the Vortex.

Some ate pieces of me...

...until they realized I was useless to them.

I wonder where those

little pieces are now.

I made it to the Vortex.

I was with my own kind.

It covered an area the size

of a small continent.

We were free and happy.

I loved going in circus,

and circus, and circus.

But no one here thought about anything.

I grew restless.

And I started to think about her again.

So I spun around, so fast,

that I was free.

But I was quickly trapped.

I have no idea how long ago that was.

Overtime I came to like these monsters.

Isnt that one beautiful?

Did my maker exist, or had

I created her in my mind?

Why were my moments of joy so brief?

And yet, like a fool,

I still have hope I will meet her again.

And if I do, I will tell her just one thing:

I wish you had created me so that I could die.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes