When I was 10 years old, I was at school one day, and I had an eraser that I didn't like. I actually thought that it looked ugly. (It was one of those classic, very common erasers. The ones who were shaped like a square and had been white in the beginning when you first bought them, but after using them for a while, they'd become gray).
Mine had become gray, a bit black, and worn out. It had started to crumble into pieces, and clearly, its existence had started to bother me.
I had just gotten a new Diddl click-it/bullet pen eraser, which I absolutely adored. And I wanted my pencil case to look organized, pretty, and nice. And my old eraser ruined the vibe and aesthetic that I was going for.
Almost everything in my pencil case was either baby pink, baby purple, baby blue or in pastelle colors.
I looked at my old eraser. It annoyed me, and I didn't want to look at it anymore.
My desk was placed by the window, and under the window there was an oil heater placed on the wall. (And since I was 10 years old, I obviously didn't think this through, because I wanted to get rid of the eraser as soon as possible, and this happened in the middle of a lecture, so I couldn't go to the trashcan to throw it there). So I removed the eraser from my pencil case, and placed it between the wall and the heater. Out of sight, out of mind. Right?
Two days later, the fire alarm went off in our classroom, and everyone panicked. Our teachers gathered us and walked us out in the hallway, and then we were also brought outside the building.
After around 20 minutes of inspection, we were brought back into the classroom, and our teacher told us that the reason the fire alarm went off, was because they had seen smoke coming out of the heater on the wall, and that they had found an eraser behind it.
I started to panic, and I remember becoming petrified that my teacher and parents would think that I had purposely tried to set the school on fire. Not long after, I think I went into a state of shock (and denial), because I managed to convince myself that it wasn't actually me who had put the eraser there.
Our teacher started asking all of us who had put the eraser behind the heater. Everyone answered that they didn't know, (including me). Our teacher showed us where he had found the eraser, and to my surprise, It wasn't actually the place where I had seemingly left my own (?)
Eventually, a boy from my class started freaking out and confessed that it was him. And I was completely flabbergasted.
As soon as our lunch break hit, and everyone had gone outside to play in the school yard, I quickly ran to the heater (where I had seemingly placed my own eraser), to see if it was still there. I was still very confused, because I was still somewhat in denial, and I wasn't sure if I actually in fact had put it there.
I looked down behind the heater, and my eyes lit up. There it was. My eraser!
I put my right hand behind the heater, and tried to grab it. The eraser had fallen further down from where I had left it, but luckily my hands were still small at that age, so I managed to get a hold of it.
I held the eraser in my hand, and I looked at it. The eraser was warm, almost hot. I remember feeling guilty for putting it there, so I apologized to it.
Then I gently carried it to the trash bin, and placed it there.
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