I feel violated. I would probably call the police, but unfortunately, I can't reach the phone. I can never reach the phone really. Even though it rests right on top of me, I couldn't reach it if I tried. You see, I was born with only legs, no hands, and those legs stand barely a few inches tall. If it weren't for that, I doubt that I would have been so violated yesterday; I would have fought back.
I honestly don't understand what happened at all. I don't know what I did to deserve that man's wrath. He wanted to open my drawers. I wouldn't let him; I have an iron will even though I'm only made of wood. He seemed to be rather hurried. He tugged and strained, and in the process he wrenched my top drawer open just a crack. I heard a creaking sound. I felt my mahogany
"Come on, open up! Don't you jam on me!" I heard him bellow. The top drawer was so full that it wouldn't budge, which was probably a good thing for me. He was tenacious though; he wouldn't let up. I wouldn't either. As he strained, so too did I, but to little avail. He violently yanked the entire drawer out, railing and all, and spilled its contents across the floor. It hurt so bad that I began to scream with the piercing shrill of oak planks rubbing against other oak planks. I couldn't stand the pain or the sight of my own body torn in two. Clearly this was not his intention as he began to loudly swear and curse to the heavens. After a moment of thought as to what to do next, however, he proceeded with his business. This I watched with horror; I felt completely helpless to stop it. He had actually begun rooting around through my own disemboweled innards! Indeed, hell itself does not hold such horrors, not for desk drawers at least.
Finally, after what seemed like a millennium, he found what he wanted - the 4mm Phillips head screw driver. "Useless piece of crap desk!" he roared as he gathered up my innards in a jumble and carelessly heaped them into my drawer's interior completely disregarding its previous state of careful organization. "I've about had it with this thing. I need a new one," he whined as he shoved the jumbled mess back into me.
And that was that, he was gone. I was physically hurt, and psychologically marred. I will never be the same because of that heartless crook. I just need to talk to somebody/something about this.