The Average Life of a Pumpkin

Lexus Burroughs, Staff Writer

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I wasn’t exactly the ideal pumpkin, I was considered the gord of the patch. As fall came around, we were all picked to live somewhere else. They began picking us one by one. As they started to clear out, all of my friends were gone. As I began to feel upset, a little girl picked me. I felt beyond thrilled, I was wanted! On the car ride home, I learned all of the names of my new family. When we got to my new home, it was very warm inside. I was put down onto the table and they left to get some things. They placed a piece of paper on me with tape, which was kind of itchy. They began to cut open my head and I was beginning to think I was picked by the wrong family. They pulled everything out of me and put it into a bowl.  I was completely empty. They began to trace the paper with a small knife, once they were finished carving I saw myself. I didn’t like this face they had given me. Soon they put me on their porch and I was back in the cold. Thankfully, this time I had a candle to keep me warm. On Halloween, a group of kids walked passed me and looked at me like they were scared. My family, who did this to me, soon handed the kids candy which made them happy again. A few days after Halloween, I began to grow weak. My family began to notice, so they sent me to a dumpster. My weak days soon ended, but there are a million more pumpkins, just like me.