The Box IOnce upon a time there was a cardboard box.
Part I "the shock"
It may appear to be nothing special, but to me it was the most magical thing in the world. Four walls of brown sheltering me from the outdoors; from the laughter and the taunts I daily faced. It was not fully effective in its protections; even though it kept me hidden from the world it could not hide me from my feelings of worthlessness. Regardless, I loved my box. And although it was an inanimate object I felt that it loved me too. I was running home from school when I first saw it. That day I was crying, sprinting home to escape the laughter and mocking I had endured bravely. I had been proud that during that day not a single tear fell down my face in front of my peers, for this I was grateful. Why give the people who torment you the satisfaction that they had ruined your day? But I digress-I was running home, my feet flying over the pavement when I saw it out of the corner of my eye. A refrigerator