The Life as a Band Aid
Hello, i’m a band aid. You’ve probably used one of them before, you know, when you get a small cut or bruise in your body. Don’t expect me to tell you my name. I don’t even have one. Let me tell you my life story.
I was born. Seriously, that’s the sentence. I didn’t have a mum. I wasn’t born in a hospital, or in a lovely bed at home. I was born in a factory. The cot wasn’t like a cot you know. It was like a lump of stone. To say it short, it was machine.
There were other plasters around me. Then the machine dropped a thin layer of this sticky paste on a side of my body, yuck! And worse, they put cotton right on my body. So uncomfortable! Lastly, they put me into a small box, ready to be sent to supermarkets. I was squished and cramped with nine other plasters. I sat there, wandering what was happening to me. Then the box shook a little. Then a lot. I peeked out of the hole. It was somebody’s home! Are we going to be pets? Or just normal plasters?
That was my story. A boy used me on his wounds. Now i’m in a landfill site. I wander what you would feel if you were me.
If you like reading and you are aged 4 to 12; you’re in the right place! My name is Sara, and my hobbies are reading and gaming! I tend to read non-fiction and funny books as they're my favourite! I also like gaming. I hope you enjoy your time on Bubblebee!