Chapter 4 Bad Idea Now was it?
I swung my arm back, squinted my eyes as if I was 5, trying to imitate a blind person. Then I put my hand down. I realized something I should do before I die. I knelt down and cried. Not like the dramatic slow sob, I wailed. I pounded the walls of the pickle. I crushed the crunchy parts. I screamed my soul out. Then the pickle rumbled. Oh shucks. The pickle fell down what I thought was a hill. It bounced side to side and I was inside. Taking the beating. Pickle smash! Pickle crush! Bang! Hit! Crack! Smoosh!
The ride was like ten minutes long. The bruises and pickle juice hurt. The juice got in my eye when ever I tried catch a glimpse of the scene. Then the pickle landed on the side. I must've landed on the bottom. I pushed up, but once I was a few inches from the bottom my forehead hit the top of the pickle with a squish. I punched the side. It moved
I got an idea. Kinda like how a lightbulb appears on your head in cartoons. I kept punching the side and with every punch the pickle and I moved an inch. The aching pain in my fist hurt, but at least I was getting somewhere. I kept pushing.
Then I hit something. Something round, something...something with a low bump then getting higher. I heard whispers. I rolled near them. Then I hit that bump again. Then it took me a while to understand, but I knew, that I hit a human's shoe.