The Attack of the Purple Crab | Teen Ink

The Attack of the Purple Crab

November 26, 2012
By rbelson GOLD, Hartland, Wisconsin
rbelson GOLD, Hartland, Wisconsin
15 articles 0 photos 1 comment

My family and I, lethargic after a endless summer day, were trying to maintain some order to our lives by tidying up. Our house had seen familiar faces run in and out it’s doors. Spilling the contents of the shelf with the intent to play with the toys but eventually the friendly toys lay forgotten on the floor. Their compadres now separated by a glass door, jealous of the toys whom were now sucumbed by the children to spend a night under the stars. They spotted a girl through the glass door in pajama pants stooping down to pick up a toy and place it back on the bottom level of the shelf. The shelf was a multilayered condo, stuffed animals and puppets residing on the ground level; the great storytellers and poets abide in the second block alongside the captured and framed memories but the penthouse dwelling was the most peculiar resident. Constructed of nails, nuts and bolts, the heap of metal was fashioned in the shape of a crab. The nails, big enough to drill through a dime made suitable feet. It was painted purple and blue and its eyes were perched up from its head seeing all potential victims meandering by. There it rested nonchalantly looking so innocent, little did the girl know that it was conspiring a great leap. All the toys had been tucked into bed and the cabinet door was the only thing left to go before I crawled into bed. I had been idly chatting with my brother and sister who were splayed out on the couch in an tired dayze. I had turned my head to comment on their conversation when the door met the cabinet. It was at that moment that the crab decided to jump from it’s remote penthouse dwelling. Discreetly flying, no one noticed the purple crab’s descent. Then it hit me, or rather punctured me. The crab landed and the nail foot went straight through my foot. My scream of pain reverberated through the entire house. My concerned parents rushed down to see me pull the purple deviant out of my foot. Blood rushed from both ends of my puncture wound. The perpetrator was cast aside on the floor as my family surrounded me, trying their best to administer medical attention. They finally realized that their attempts at shamanism were not sufficient and took me to the emergency room. The purple crab rode along, and it ended up being a good thing too. For, when I explained my problem malady to the nurse, she did not believe me until I unwrapped the gauze and reenacted the accident with the crab. Since the emergency room was lacking people with maladies, all the doctors were free to gander on down to my room. I was taken back to the room where doctor after physician filed in to take a look at the strange crab. After much commotion it was decided that my foot may heal on it’s own because the crab’s hole miraculously missed any bones in my foot. However, the hole could not be stitched up because the hole when both sides of my foot and may trap unwanted germs that were introduced by the crab. My family helped me stumble out to the car, purple crab in tow. The purple crab returned to his dwelling in the penthouse shelf where he waits, to this day, nefariously watching for his next victim.



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