Hey, you know when you have one of those totally unexpected days? Well, get this. I'm going to tell you about the day my backpack talked to me. Seriously! It's a true story. Sort of. It all kicked off last Tuesday. Just a normal school morning. I was running late as usual, brushing my teeth and shoving toast in my face while yelling at my mom, “Where's my backpack?!”
That's when I heard it. A muffled voice coming from my room's corner. “I'm over here! And could you please stop putting half-eaten bananas in me?” I froze solid. My toothbrush fell into the sink.
“...Hello?” I whispered. “Finally!” the voice grumbled. “I've been trying to get your attention for ages. Do you have any idea what it's like lugging around old math, melted crayons, and who-knows-what cheese sticks?” I was stunned. My backpack—you know, the one with the Australia-shaped ketchup stain—was talking.
“I'm officially on strike,” it declared. “I'm not carrying your stuff anymore until you clean me out and stop treating me like a garbage can.” I didn't know if I should laugh, scream, or grab my phone. But then I remembered my screen-free week. No texts, no social media, just me, my thoughts, and a sassy, talking backpack. I did the only thing I could do. I talked back.
“Okay, Backpack. What do you want?” “Respect!” it shot back. “And a name! You call your bike 'Thunderbolt.' I want a cool name, too.” After thinking for a second, I said, “How about... Bagston? Sir Bagston?” It seemed to get taller somehow. “I like it.”
Things got even weirder at school that day. Sir Bagston whispered hints during my pop quiz (“The answer to number five is not C”). He told me to return Maya's pencil. And when some dude tried to cut me in the lunch line, Bagston growled.
“Whoa,” the dude said. “Did your bag just... growl at me?” “Sorry,” I said, patting Bagston. “He's protective.” After school, I carefully zipped him up and whispered, “Thanks, Bagston.” “No prob,” he mumbled. “Just... no bananas tomorrow, okay?” So yeah.
That's the story of how my backpack started talking. Maybe it's magic. Maybe my brain went haywire from too much homework. Or maybe weird stuff just happens when you ditch your phone and just listen to what's going on around you.
Whatever the reason—tomorrow's a new day. And I have a feeling that Sir Bagston and I are just getting started.
ISSUE
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