Crunch .Crackel. The shifting of empty wrappers and full pouches tosses carelessly around a bag.  I sit on the bottom of it , alone , with nothing but my thoughts to accompany me, as all others are. I can see the bag shake and move around me. the hand finally has me. I am lifted throughout the bag and I see others like me on my way though; they look scared , alone. They know their fate is inevitable. I hear a chuckle and look up in front of me and follow the hand that holds me up and arm , to a head , and I peer at the face of my captor ,My tormentor , if you will. ‘ I finally found it.’ they sneer at me and look to their companion. crinkling causes me to look down as I am not fit for my fate  by the hands that hold me. I swallow whatever i hoped to find in my thought , but it is dry, no moisture no saliva , nothing. My captors companion takes ahold of one side of me , and Captor on the other and they pull. I had never felt such pain in my life , that i was feeling at the moment,  my body was being torn apart. Crack. Riiiiiip. Laughter. I am broken into two , one in each of their hands , but I am not dead; not yet. My pieces are lifted from there mands and placed somewhere damp and moist, they crunch on ,me, I can feel myself being sucked on and chewed on until I am nothing. I am gone now , but , this is the life of a candy. Crunch, Crunch ,Crunch.