Diary of a Band-Aid

Day One

I woke this morning to a bright light, as if someone had peeled back the sky. There was no choice but to awaken. Soon, I found myself stripped. Freed, though I hadn’t known I was imprisoned.

After a short while, I felt myself being bent and patted. For the first time ever, I felt…satisfaction? As if I were fulfilling some kind of function for which I had been specifically designed. I was home.

Maybe this is what the poets meant when they wrote about joy?

Day Two

Things are continuing the same as yesterday. I overheard the Master, for that’s how I have chosen to refer to him, mention something called a “knee.” My understanding is that I am, in some way, affixed to that location. All I know is that, for now, I cling here in varying stages of darkness. There is no rhyme or reason to when dark and light occur. At least, none that I can find. Still, for now I remain hopeful that this new life will forever be all it promises.

Day Three

The master has a strange ritual involving water. I’m unclear of the purpose behind it, but thus far I have remained on “The Knee” through several brief deluges. After each turn through “the shower,” the Master peeks under my head to assess…something. I’m not sure what.

I feel a building weakness in my outer extremities. It concerns me.

Day Four

The weakness in my extremities continues to grow. Master spent several minutes muttering after the morning deluge. He poked and prodded along my edges and seemed satisfied. But worry has begun to eat into my consciousness.

Perhaps this change in my circumstance has not been for the best. I begin to miss my box.

Day Five
I experienced complete loss of feeling on my right side this morning during “the shower.” Master tugged on my arm as it flapped in the water. I hoped, at first, that he would have some method of reestablishing feeling–maybe more of his patting and prodding? But no.

Before I realized what was happening, I found myself perched on a cold, shiny surface, my arms curled beneath my head. Another creature shares my perch. She has five rows of gleaming, metal teeth and, as yet, has said nothing.

The Master promised me a trip to some sort of final resting place. Perhaps one where feeling would return to my arms? I know not. But I remain hopeful.

Day Six

The Master spoke to me again this morning during “the shower.” Again, he promised a trip to a realm of final resting. And yet, when the water ceased, he left and I remained. The Master’s Wife eyed me when she visited the watery place, but she said nothing.

Day Seven

Again the Master spoke to me while under the water. The Master’s Wife did not even make eye contact during her visit. I have attempted to strike up conversation with she of the gleaming teeth. She says little, but has allowed me to call her “RaZor.”

She does not seem to believe I will be a long time resident here. Though her explanation about the Master’s Wife and something about scrubbing made little sense.

Day Ten

The twice-daily soakings have taken their toll. I am flattened and struggle to hold on to the hope that Master will remember his promise to me.

I begin to despair.