The Life of a Carrot.

One minute I was part of another, the next I was my own. It's the strangest sensation- having your hair (which has grown quite nicely these last few weeks if I do say so myself) warmed by the sun, and being swayed by the breeze while the rest of you- the part that matters- surrounded by dirt, cold, and stuck in one place forever. Yes, I know what you must be thinking: a carrot who doesn't think the most important thing is hair!?
Yes, I am unique in many areas...
I have heard many stories. How? You know, I'm not quite sure, I'm still trying to figure out this phenomenon that is life.
Stories of all our hair getting chopped off by large slices of rock, and our outer layer of skin peeled off our living bodies.  It's positively horrendous! I wonder how such silly phrases came to be. I mean, anything that is horrendous cannot possibly be positive. But then, I wouldn't know. Living under a rock? Try hard packed soil.
I expect I've been rambling for quite some time...A month...or two, maybe?
Wait...what's going on? There's this faint thumping sound, and...could it be? The shrieks and cries of my fellow orange-skinned brothers and sisters? If I could help them, I would, but as I said earlier, I am stuck here in the ground immobilized for possibly forever. As the thumps draw closer, my very eventful life flashes before my...eyes?
Sanity hikes up its skirt, yanks off its heels and flees to another dimension. My shrieking drowns out the cries of my fellow carrots and continues in an infinite crescendo of ear-splitting agony. A hand closed over my only link to the outside world- my luscious locks of green- and yanks unmercifully. The pain is blinding, paralyzing. Bits of my roots lay in the ground left there to wither. Clumps of dirt cling to my skin like a tattered blanket.
Imagine being ripped out of your comfort zone, your childhood home, and, without warning tossed into a basket of your relatives whose whimpers of pain are replaced with shock as the volume of your crescendo rattles their souls.
The human- who seems oblivious to my highly distracting solo- continues yanking veggies out of the earth. The strength has been zapped out of me as if by lightning, and I fall into a dark abyss of sleep.
When I wake I am in a loud, busy place. It's a different kind of loud than I was yesterday. The carrots beside me are so unsocial that I began to prefer the beetles company over theirs. The beetle was in my vicinity of dirt for about 0.3 seconds, so I hope that says something about their level of boring.
A few times, I am picked up and thrown back onto the pile while finer specimens of carrot are chosen. Finally, it is me that is chosen by a shaky, withered hand that places me gently into a plastic bag. Shortly after, I experience the second weirdest sensation of my life. I am set down onto a surface that moves all on its own, and not in an earthquake or human-with-heavy-boots-coming-to-end-you sort of way.
Not long after all this, I get the strangest sensation of them all. The little stump on my head- yes the one that's starting to wither and I'm getting self-conscious about- is chopped away, and then I'm chopped in half and skinned alive.
It's everything and nothing the storytellers said. It is by no means positively horrendous, it's devastatingly horrendous!
The bottom half of me is shredded and mixed into a salad, while the upper half is carefully sliced by a piece of menacing, shiny sliver of rock. Those circle pieces of me are tossed into a boiling pot.
But what they don't know is that that bit of moisture on the salad isn't some excess oil from the dressing, and that extra millimeter of liquid in the soup are the tears of a carrot who has just undergone some excruciating agony.