I am a school bag. I used to sit in a department store. My life was so boring until a boy found me and insisted that I belonged to him. He was about seven years old. I hoped he would take me home. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in a plastic bag, in the back seat of a car, ready to be used by a new master. He was very excited at owing me and kept taking me out of the bag to examine me. When school started, I was brought to my master's school. He treated me well during the first week. Before he put me down on the floor beside him, he made sure that the floor was clean. He showed me off to his friends and all of them admired me greatly. However, after the first week he began tossing me on floors and benches. I suffered bruises and damages as time went on. He didn't seem to like me anymore. Now, I am dirty and tattered all over. He replaced me with a new bag and I just sit in a corner of a cupboard all day. I hope my master will not throw me away one day. I also wish that he would treat me as he first did when he got me. But maybe I am asking for too much. After all, I am just a school bag.