Once there was a lonely pie named Apple. She was made in a pie factory. First, she was flour, then she was a pile of dough. The next hour, she was carrying apples.
Apple was tucked into a corner of the oven, where she became crunchy and golden-brown. What other weird things would she be put into?
“It’s too hot,” cried one of the other mixed berry pies.
Suddenly, the door of the oven opened.
“Fresh air,” Apple thought.
Excitedly, she jumped up and down, causing the oven tray to shake. A person grabbed her gently and placed her in a display case. But then, she saw her price tag and screamed.
She did not want to be sold. She just wanted to stay in the tray and show off to the other pies.
As customers went by, Apple thought she wouldn’t be chosen until a sudden shake of the case made her jump. The shopkeeper put Apple inside a box.
“No!” shouted Apple as the lid of the box closed.
When the man who bought Apple got back home, he put Apple on a clean, shiny plate.
“Stop, please,” Apple cried.
Shocked, the man dropped her back on the plate.
“Please,” she pleaded, “Please spare my life!”
Disgusted, the man threw Apple in the trash can.
“Eww, I shouldn’t have bought this disgusting talking pie,” he said.
“No!” Her voice echoed as she fell into the trash.
Slowly, her shiny skin started to mould, her apples started to rot and disgusting, garbage juice smeared her skin.
She began to decompose and lose her sense of self.
“Help me, someone,” she said tiredly, and shut her eyes for the very last time.
