Childhood Possession

What was the your favorite possession when you were a kid? Why did you love it so much and how did it affect your life?

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2 thoughts on “Childhood Possession

  1. orion1991

    I was out digging in a field in Georgia when I was about 7 or 8. I am the third child, so I pretty much got to do whatever I wanted so long as I didn’t bother anyone. If there is a chimney stack standing in a field I would walk around in the grass surrounding it and you could usually find a garbage pile left from the old homesteading days. There would be old medicine bottles, milk bottles, soda bottles. All glass of course.
    This particular day I found a chimney stack in a clearing in a small hammock of woods. I began to circle around the chimney in my usual pattern, stepping lightly so I didn’t smash any buried glass, when I kicked a small black polished stone. It looked like it had something written inside of it in gold. I would stare at it for hours trying to figure out what it said, mumbling different possibilities to myself in a secluded area and holding the smooth stone inches away from my eyes. I would focus so hard on the stone I would lose track of time. Sometimes, I would wake up in the middle of the night, and I would need to look at it. This hunger grew and grew. The first time I spent an entire day with the stone was the best. It felt like having all of my wishes granted at once. There was nothing else in the whole world I wanted. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t hungry, I didn’t feel lonely, I didn’t feel inferior, I didn’t feel like wasting my time doing anything else. All I needed to do was sit in a corner and stare at my stone. I stopped going outside. When I did sleep I dreamed of the stone, and I would wake up after about an hour sweating, but as soon as I brought that stone up to my eye all was right with the world. I would stare at the stone and it felt like I was inside the stone looking out, or the stone was inside me. It was an all consuming thing, and I loved it. One day, after I bit my mom when she tried to take it away from me, a man in a black suit and a funny collar came over. I was really afraid of him, and I think I passed out, because he walked up to me, I can remember his mouth moving, but he wasn’t saying anything, when he got really close he showed me a man on a cross and then I guess I fainted. When I woke up it was dark outside, and everyone was standing around me, I asked if they knew where my stone was, and then the man in the suit opened his book again and starting talking about something. I didn’t understand him.He was speaking a different language. The need for the stone felt different. It was like a memory of how great it is, instead of a promise. I said I was hungry and tired and the man closed his book and everyone started to cry. I tried to get out of bed, but my wrists and ankles were tied to the posts. I started to cry with everyone else, and I don’t know why, but it just felt like it needed to happen. Anyways, my most prized possession was the little black stone.

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