Short Story #3

My Best Friend

I sit on my bottom on the floor like a good girl. I did a bad thing. Maybe I will get in trouble. I start to cry because I’m sad. My mommy comes over to me and puts her arms around me. “Honey, it’s okay. It was just an accident. Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“No, mommy, I broke it.” I was crying really hard.

“Sweetie, it’s okay. We can buy you a brand new piggy bank.”

“I broke it. My piggy.” My mommy told me I had my piggy since I was borned. And then I knocked it off the dresser. I can’t believe it. I broke my piggy and now I am sad.

My mommy, calm and comforting, seems fine with it. She is not mad. I thought she would be mad at me. I mean, I broke my piggy. My piggy was always nice to me. It kept my money safe. And I broke it. I hurt its feelings; I hurt it really badly. Maybe I can fix it.

“Mommy, I need to fix my piggy.”

“Honey, why don’t we just get a brand new one?”

“No! I wanna fix this one!” Why did she want me to get a new one? Why does she want to replace my piggy?

“Okay, okay. It’s alright. We’ll fix it, okay? You want me to get Daddy to help us?”

“Yeah,” I said, whining.

***

I get my glue and all of the pieces to my piggy. Then I wait for Mommy and Daddy to come back into the room. I sit down at the table and look at my poor piggy.

My mommy and daddy come back with some things to help make my piggy better. Daddy has glue and Mommy has…something else. It looks like a tool. I don’t know what it is. But anything that will heal my piggy is okay with me.

We use Daddy’s glue because he says it will make it stick better. We try to put every piece back together, but it doesn’t work. My piggy keeps falling apart. We can’t fix my piggy at all. I am sad again.

***

We are walking in Wal-Mart trying to find a new piggy bank for me. We come to the right place and I get to pick the one I want. I do not want another one, but now I don’t have a choice. I pick another pretty pink one. I carry it to where we pay and the whole way home.

I remember where I put my money after my other piggy broke, so when I get home, I quickly put it in the new one. I have to keep my money safe. When I see that the new piggy is doing a good job, I pat it on its back. I am happy again. I have a new best friend, even though I will always miss the other one.