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I didn't ask to be born. I didn't want to be born. I had been in this dark cave my whole life and I was perfectly fine never knowing any different. I loved the comforting echoes that made my whole home vibrate. I loved the gentle rocking motion that my home made as it moved endlessly. Best of all, I loved the sweet nourishment that was fed to me through my stomach. I would jump and dance every time that sugary sweetness entered my bloodstream.

One day, suddenly, my home started to get smaller. It felt as though it was contracting and trying to squeeze me out into some other place. This was a very strange and uncomfortable feeling, indeed. I decided to keep quiet and not move around too much.

I had always suspected that my shelter was alive and this episode seemed to be proving it. If only I had some place to hide, I thought to myself. Of course there was no place to hide. There was only me, my feeding tube and over on the ceiling, my blob of nourishment. I soon gave up on that idea. I was quite confused and beginning to grow alarmed. My house attempted once more to push me out, in shock I gulped down some of the fluid that filled my abode. This caused me to hiccup, which was a very uncomfortable experience.

Anyways, this contracting of my home went on for a few hours. I was positively sick of it and I thought it would never end. I was ready to go ahead and go wherever my house was trying to push me to. I would find a new house, a better house, maybe one with lighting and electricity.

So I did it, I let go of the only thing that I had known my whole life, my security, and accepted my destiny.

This new place was colorful. A strange creature was clearing out my mouth and nose. I didn't get much of a chance to figure out exactly what it was, because I was suddenly slapped down onto a cushiony surface.

This new thing smells familiar, and it is warm. I look at it curiously. Why does it smell like home?

It draws me closer to its warmth, gazing at me lovingly. It makes gentle noises that remind me of my former dwelling. I miss my home and start to cry, but am quickly quieted by a mound of flesh that enters my mouth. Apparently, this mound is much like my feeding tube. It emits rather appetizing fluid as well.

The wheels in my head start spinning. This place seems much like the place that I just left. Suddenly, it hits me. I'm still at the home I've always known. I've just been banished outside.

Learn more about this author, Amber Larkins.
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