Part of the Untold Story collection.

My owner shoved me into the backpack today. She brought me to school to draw with during art class, but she used the skinny pink pencil instead. Because I lost my eraser.

I was used a lot in my younger days, until my eraser popped right off! Now I have bumpy, brown wood where my eraser used to be, and I have become used less and less.

I sit in the cold, lonely dark of the backpack for hours, squished between a binder and a notebook, but my owner does not take me out of the backpack. I let out a sigh of loneliness and drift into an uncomfortable sleep.