Trash or Treasure?

I’m snuggly wrapped around my companion’s neck, trying to keep them warm from the chilly air as we trek down a busy sidewalk. They weave in and out of people while I feel the small flakes fall and seep into my wool fabric. As they race down the stairs, going underground, I feel both ends of my cloth bouncing against their body with each movement. It’s not long before my companion rushes into a packed tin can of people, some are standing while others sit.

I feel the hesitation within them as they look around, walking down a row of people as their gloved hand clutched to the loose end of my fabric that hung by their neck. They loosened their grip on me, finding a spot at the end of the cramped space where they could sit and relax. The air was feeling stuffy, a stark contrast to the brutal winter weather that I’d felt outside. My wool felt hot and uncomfortable, but my companion didn’t seem to mind, at first.

I felt them getting restless beneath me, tugging at me, losing me up every few seconds. Soon, I was being unwrapped and folded into their lap. I laid there, waiting for my purpose once again to keep my companion’s neck warm. Yet, I wouldn’t have the luxury of fulfilling my purpose once more. When the movement stopped abruptly, they jumped from their seat, trying to push past those who were getting on and others who were getting off. Through the commotion, I felt my companion’s grip on me falter, my limp body floating to the floor, being trampled by so many different types of treads. I could hear my companion call out, trying to get back, but it soon faded into the distance as the movement started to go again.

I was soon kicked and crumpled under a seat, the darkness enveloping me as my fabric felt bruised and broken. I was lost, and I could no longer protect my companion from the cold. I didn’t know how much time had passed since I was stuck under this seat, swaying back and forth as the movements changed. I thought this was where I’d stay, withering away as my wool tore and grew dusty. I feared I’d never provide warmth for another companion again.

I was soon proven wrong when tiny, but chubby, hands pulled me from the darkness and into the light. I heard the little companion giggle as they rubbed me against a sticky cheek. They held me close, holding me tightly against their small body like they never wanted to let me go. I felt a purpose once again, keeping this little person safe and warm as they clung to me with all their might. The small companion toddled out of the tin can that wasn’t as crowded as before with my old one.

I heard the little one being called for, making them speed up, almost tumbling, but they dared not let go of me as their tiny grip seemed to get tighter. I thought I had found my new companion, the one I’d spend the rest of my days with, but I was soon yanked from their hands and into much bigger ones that were more petite. They scolded the young child as they tossed me onto a metal barrel, half of me inside and half out.

The part of me inside the barrel felt gross as I brushed up against something slimy and wet. Tiny little animals would fly on and off my fabric as their little legs of what felt like six scurried up and down me before flying off. I was alone once more, tossed away like I was nothing but a heap of trash. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for my purpose, not like the rest like me. I was the last off the metal rack only months ago, everyone in front of me getting picked and taken for their forever home. Then my first companion came along, giving me a chance before I let them down.

I was soon ripped off the metal barrel, my right end slightly getting snagged on a rusted piece before being completely yanked off and ripped. I could feel a pair of pointy needles digging into me, my wool feeling damp as hot water seeped into it. Part of me dragged along icy and snowy ground, making my other half cold and wet. I didn’t know where I was being taken, but I knew I was quite low to the ground as whatever had me ran much faster than my other companion ever did.

It turned down an empty area, hidden from the sunlight casting a dark shadow over me. I felt them drop me to the ground, a cold and wet snout nudged into me, air blowing onto me as it sniffed me. Large paws kneaded at me before a low growl rumbled from it and I was back between its pinchers. But this time it shook me back and forth, yanking me and biting me. I could feel my wool tearing as it was being pierced by sharp nails and teeth.

I was soon dropped once again, the creature scurrying off, scared by something that was around. I didn’t have to wait to know what it was as a new pair of hands grabbed me in their delicate hands. I was dusted off as the hand carefully felt my plush body, possibly looking at the damage that I had sustained through this ordeal. They soon folded me up before placing me inside a warm and cozy pouch, sealing me in before I felt them walking off to somewhere new. I wondered if there was still a chance that I could fulfill my purpose and a new beginning for myself.

I soon found myself in a new warm environment as my new companion took me from the confines of their pouch. I wondered if this would be my new home as they placed me down on a soft marble-like texture. I was soon submerged in hot water, their hands carefully and delicately moving over every inch of my fabric. They rubbed some spots with more force than others, probably to rid me of caked-on dirt that had fused into my wool. It wasn’t long until I was lifted from the now warm water, and ringed out by the same hands that have been nothing but kind and gentle to me.

My new companion laid me over a new metal rack, letting me hang there to dry. I still felt worn out and shredded, but I did feel I was given some new life with the gentle cleaning I’d received. The darkness soon turned to light as the sun warmed up the rest of my body which wasn’t quite dry yet.

I was pulled from the rack, the delicate hands returning to my fabric. I felt a cold needle prick into my wool, the metal weaving in and out of me, tightening my loose and broken spots that were ripped and torn over the past couple of days. After several moments of being poked and prodded, I was folded up once again, and placed on top of many other types of fabrics and clothing. Soon we were all closed in, the darkness settling in on me once again. Perhaps I was mistaken about my new companion’s intentions. But why would they bother cleaning and fixing me if they weren’t planning to use me?

We bounced around as the stuffy box we were crammed into was jostled and moved. I didn’t know where we were headed, but I dreaded the worst, not being able to keep a person warm ever again. The box soon stopped moving, the thick lids being pulled back as bright light flooded in. The delicate hands that I’ve come to know dug inside, pulling out clothing after clothing. A couple here and a couple there, as I slowly fell toward the bottom, not being picked once again.

Soon their hands landed on me, lifting me from my confines as she handed me over to another pair of hands. These hands were wrinkled, and rough to the touch, shaking slightly as they took me from the calmness of my delicate companion. I heard them meekly thank the person who passed me on to them as they wrapped me snuggly around their thick neck. They moved slowly, seeming to have a slight limp to the way they bobbed as they did so. My companion seemed to have it rough, but I was excited to do my duties to protect my new companion from the cold.