A Safe Place to Die(How to carve a pumpkin from a pumpkins perspective)
My name is Peter Pumpkin. I live in field 12 of Pumpkin Patch Kids Pumpkin Patch with my best friends Peeta, Pinkie, Plumpkin and my girlfriend Petunia. This farm has a Halloween display, every year, the owner of the patch, Mr.Snow, picks two pumpkins from each patch, one boy and one girl. One year patch thirteen had a resistance and now that patch has been closed as a warning to us all. I am the ripest pumpkin of my age and I have a very bad feeling about this year. It is almost a sure thing that I get picked. You are probably wondering why I am telling you all this, it is the day before Mr. Snow picks for the Halloween display and I want at least one person to know my story, a final act of non rebellion in a way. That is all my life has been so far, boring, unrebellious nonsense and I am starting to regret it.
Air, hands and air. That is the first thing that I felt when I woke up this morning. Then I remembered today was the day. It had finally happened, I was going to the Halloween display. I tried to look back but Mr. Snow was holding on to me too tightly, I couldn't help but wonder who saw me leave, was it my Mom screaming to silence that they were taking her baby or was it Peeta who was cowering in fear, waiting, just waiting for him to be picked, or was no one watching, that was when my train of thought was changed. I started wondering whether anyone was waiting, watching or holding their holding their breathe. Did anyone even notice at all? After all my life was and undesirable, boring mess of nothingness. I had never done anything interesting at all, my entire life has just been waiting and watching two people two people getting killed each year. Now that I am not sure how much time I have left, watching is the thing I will regret the most.
That was the moment that we arrived at the display. It was quiet. There were tattered scarecrows lining a large brown shelf with a large banner that says Happy Halloween. The self had every shape, size and colour pumpkin on the shelf. Mr.Snow put me on the bottom shelf. I won't be very noticeable here, I thought to myself, maybe I can survive this, maybe I can- NO. I stopped my train of thought, there is NO WAY OUT. I am dead, I just have to accept that. No one has survived this, let alone someone as insignificant as me. My thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang and high-pitched screams. Then I heard a unfamiliar voice say Everybody off, it's time to pick a pumpkin.
This is it, I thought to myself. This is when I get picked, this is the end. Everyone started mumbling. Someone even screamed you'll never take me alive. I almost laughed, which is a good thing, I guess considering the situation. Right this way. You can pick anyone you want Mr. Snow, and the small people were getting closer . That was when I saw one of them, he had a wide smile with a large gap. He was wearing a neon orange coat with a hat, mittens and boots to match. Then I realized that they were happy, they were happy that we are being lead to our death for their entertainment. After all for then this is just some holiday tradition, bring home a pumpkin that has been ripped away from their family and slaughter them, then take out his insides and put his skin outside your house after carving patterns into it. At that moment I saw the rest of them. How many were there thirty, forty? But in this moment it felt like hundreds. Just then Mr. Snow said "Go for it "and they all started running.
In second grade we learned the word stampede. When the teacher was saying how terrible they were, I thought, how bad can it be?. Now I understand. This was the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced. All of the colourful boots and coats, soon they got too close and started grabbing. Nobody even noticed me at first, but then I saw a sticky, freckled face lean down and look directly at me.
At the very last second he turned and took the pumpkin that was beside the pumpkin who said You'll never take me alive. When he grabbed the pumpkin I was still getting over the shock of almost getting picked, when I heard a voice that would change my life forever, and it was screaming my name. My head turned in the direction of the voice, it was familiar but I couldn't quite put my finger on who it was. I heard it again PETER, PETER. The kid with the freckles stumbled an turned, dropping his pumpkin. Just after it left his arms, I realized that it was Petunia.
