Tuesday, September 16th- The Spoon's Perspective

I will never forget that day, no sir. It seems like so long ago, but also just yesterday at the same time. Perhaps it is because the horrors I went through that day I go through on a regular basis. But the first time is always the worst.
The Masters came and bought me and my fellow brethren from our city, known as Sears. We were brand new and shiny, ready to serve, as all our kind are called to do. We were taken to the home of our Masters, and we were separated by race. The forks were placed in one place, and the knives in the other. To my relief, I was placed with other spoons like me. Forks are okay to hang out with, but knives can be vicious and violent, and they have a nasty habit of slicing other folk. Anyway, I was with my own kind in the drawer, and we could here the forks talking the next container over, and the knives dueling in the next. I talked and made a few friends that day. I thought that this new life wasn't too bad; all we had to do was sit in a drawer all day. How wrong I was.
I few hours later, the drawer opened, and one of the Masters reached in and suddenly picked me and several others up. I closed my eyes as I was lifted high in the air; it was easily the most terrifying point in my life up to that point. I was one of the lucky ones, however, as one of the forks was dropped to the floor, a whole four feet down. To this day, I'm not sure if he made it.
What happened next was even worse. The Masters used us to shovel their food into their disgusting mouths! That experience was beyond describing, it was so horrible. The stench, and careless dropping on the table, truly awful. It rattled my brain, and I dearly wished to be back in the drawer, or even back at Sears. After the meal was finished, I thought that the Masters would put me back in the drawer, but a fork who had been with this family for a long time told me to brace myself, for we would have to be washed first. I didn't really see a fault in that. I felt filthy, and I'm sure I reeked. A bath is just what I needed. The Masters dropped all of the brethren they took out of the drawer in a basket on the inside of  a special, silver cabinet. We were all crammed together in there, especially when all the fat plates and glasses were added. One of the Masters poured some white stuff in the door, and then they closed it, placing us all in darkness.
As soon as the door was closed, all of us new ones cried out in terror, and I'm not ashamed to say that I was one of them. To make matters worse, water came flying from everywhere, getting in my eyes and mouth. Soap came next, blinding me and getting caught in my throat. I thought I was going to drown in this watery hell, but everything got even worse. Everyone was crying and choking, and I couldn't even see my friends in front of me. I was sure that everyone was going to die. Maybe one of us had angered the Masters in some way, and we were all to suffer? What had I done to deserve this? This was not a bath: it was torture.
Another hour later, the door opened again, and I think everyone was too tired or knocked out to care. We were all placed back in the drawers, and everyone who hadn't already fainted fell into an uneasy sleep. This was my new life, and I realized that then. The life of a spoon is not all fun and games. I hope the Masters appreciate our daily sacrifice.