Trash Can #123 - Prompt 1

Trash Can 123 - Prompt #1

In my younger days, I was optimistic and wanted to give my best service to #123. I am part of the ally group that holds the family trash and keeps our ally clean. I get picked up twice a week, turned upside down and relieved of all that is inside me. I am refreshed once more to start my next shift.

I love Mondays and Thursdays! The good families wash and rinse us; setting us back into place.

Over the past two years, three families have moved into my watch. The first two had rinsed me and kept me clean. They were even respectful about their trash, rinsing out their cans and wrapping the garbage tight before tossing it inside me.

Many homeless children have raised my lid to find their food, including
the Canine Gang. I had much to offer them, when I was able to give good service.

I did have a problem with ‘Ole Butch. He was the meanest and ugliest of the bunch. He was always stealing from the others.

My present family doesn’t care about me or themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Blobsky.
I spend my nights listening to a barrage of sounds streaming from the walls, including four-letter words and incessant screaming. The slamming of doors and the breaking of glass happen every night. Everyone else in the ally is asleep but I hear them.

The most upsetting sounds come from their children. They are being abused and I am helpless. I want to lift my lid and scream louder than the sirens.

Mr. Blobsky appears after dark; throwing his smelly garbage inside of me.
I hate when he raises my lid. I don’t want anything he has to offer and neither does the Canine Group. He is grotesque and he makes me more sick than the smell that is inside of me. His bloated red face and bulging eyes could scare the lids off of everyone in our group.

Tonight has been the worst ever. I heard the screaming of the children and then it became too quiet. Mr. Blobsky visited several times, hauling heavy black trash bags. I am full of sadness and I must suffer until tomorrow morning’s trash pickup. I pray for “Ole Butch to drop by to pop off my lid and make a huge mess. The world would know about #123.

"Inker"