Bump! Slap! Thunk!
So is my life as the Carried Holder of Items. In the beginning, I was merely a Potential Holder of Small Items. All of us would shine with excitement when a carrier would pass by, and our days on display taught us which types of carriers would even look past the numbers on our shelves. One day, there he was, to buy a gift for his daughter, he said- the best and most popular, yet unique, too. I was thrilled as our Handler told the Buyer that I matched his description perfectly, and he promptly took me home.
My pleasure at losing my "Potential" status deteriorated rapidly. The daughter who became my carrier mistreats me horribly. She sets me on the lowest levels while "pissing", where I pick up the most terrible diseases. I am constantly banged against walls and overstuffed with greasy wrappers and open pens, so I take delight in rearranging the items she uses most, in hopes that she will take interest in a different Holder of Small Items. Only then may I sit quietly in a corner or under a bed and live my life in peace.