\7\ Purinsumphobia

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This is another one of my one shots where I actually have no clue what I'm doing, nonetheless this was fun to write, even though it's super short. Thanks to my friend Peyton for making up the concept. Speaking of concepts, I should probably mention what this one shot is about beforehand:

Kellin is a trashcan and Vic is afraid of trash

- -

No one really understands what it's like to be a trash can. Sure you can compare yourself to trash or a trash can, but can you really be a trash can? No. Not at all. But I am. My name is Kellin, I came up with it when a guy threw away his empty cup away in me. His name was Kevin, and immediately Kellin popped into my head. Personally, I thought it was clever for a trashcan, but not a lot of others find it cool like I did.

My current location is in a busy park in the middle of San Diego. A lot of children visit and play on the swing sets, while their parents rest on the benches surrounding me. Many things get thrown away in me every single day; And a lot of it I feel goes to waste. Nonetheless, I don't speak up. If I talked to anyone besides other trash cans, everyone would be freaked out and run away.

Even though this town is huge, it isn't uncommon to see common people reappear often. Sometimes I figure out who they are, sometimes they remain anonymous. Either way, I always remember them.

There's one man in particular that I notice likes to come here at least once a week. He looks to be in his twenties or early thirties, and he usually comes alone. His name's Vic, and I only know that because someone called him out one day. Most people approach me calmly, throwing their trash away and moving on, but with Vic it's a different story. Personally, he's one of my favorite visitors.

What's different with Vic is the fact that he seems to avoid me. I don't know what I could've done, considering I got dumped here a few months ago. I used to be stationed by the town hall.

When I first saw him approach me, a look of fear was concentrated on his face. He had an empty box in his hands, which were quivering. He practically tossed the box into me before scurrying away, not even looking back. I thought his manners were odd, and as time went on, I figured out the issue. Vic has purinsumphobia; The fear of trash cans. He avoids me and he fears me, but honestly there's no reason for that. I'm harmless considering I can't move myself. People bump me now and then, and the night cleaner lifts me upside down every night, but that's about all the movement I get.

After about six days, Vic showed up again. Nothing was in his hands, so I knew he didn't have a point in coming over to me, but I was practically begging him to. I wanted to help him not fear me or any of my friends, but I didn't want to talk either. That might scare him even more.

Nonetheless, I watched Vic intently as he walked around the park, passing me along with a few others cautiously. There was always a certain look of fear written in his eyes, but I was determined to change that.

Vic made his way back and forth, seeming to just enjoy the oak trees that towered over us. Occasionally in the fall the leaves would fall into me, but I don't mind. It makes me feel cleaner.

As Vic made his way far away from me, I decided I needed a plan.

"Psst." I whispered to the trashcan adjacent to me. He hadn't decided what he wants as his name, so I just call him trash can. He's the newest, showing up a few weeks ago.

"Why are you talking? There's someone here." He warned me in a whisper.

"I know, his name's Vic. He's scared of trash cans and I want to help." I explained, watching Vic cautiously. He was beginning to come back this way.

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