A Twist with Personification

I'm not sure if any of you know what the word Personification means, so I shall tell you. Personification is a literary device that I use in my highschool English class. I never knew what it was until recently. What you do is you take an inanimate objects (pencil, pen, paper clip, etc.) and you give it a personality. It's almost like you give this object a life and a story. And I recently wrote a story using Personification. I will not tell you the object until the end of the story, but I want to see if anyone can guess before they get to the end of this post! Here it is!:

Personification: My Life
February 24th, 2010
Age: 14

My very first memory of life was actually painful. Not emotional, but physical. The first thing I remember was going through that punching machine. The punch slid over my body and I tried very hard not to cringe or squirm. It was painful, and I barely made it through without moving my body. But I was strong and I was proud of my life. The next order of business was heading out to the big world. I was terrified, but I was not alone. Thousands of others, like me, were heading out to meet the person that we’d spend the rest of our lives with. We were all grouped together and sent off to our masters. When I met mine, I was really proud to serve him. He never scolded me or put me down. The first few days were kind of boring, but then the rumbles came. They just kept coming and coming. I was scared and I shook all over. I rattled with nerves and fear, but my master always helped me overcome the fear. The part that I loved most about my master was his voice. It was so very soothing and relaxing. The rumbles soon became less apparent as long as I concentrated on my master’s voice.

But then my master left the place where we were, he didn’t need to be there anymore. And I went with him. I was put in a special box and was kept safe. But then one day, some years later, something tragic happened. My master left me. He left me one day and never returned. I was shocked and then sad and then angry. Then I became bitter and felt resentment towards everyone. Many years passed and I was probably forgotten. I never saw anyone.

But one day, many years after the tragic event, I heard a girl’s voice. I looked up at this young girl and I was surprised to see a mirror image of my master. I began to weep as she picked me up and cradled me. She looked at me inquisitively and asked many questions. I tried to answer her, but she could not hear me. From that moment on, I vowed that that girl would become my new master. I will treat her right and she will treat me right. I will help her to understand my first master. The one that this girl looks like, but doesn’t know.

Have you figured it out yet?! If you have, that's amazing. It you haven't, that's okay, I'll tell you. The inanimate object that I wrote about was my grandfather's dog-tag from the military. But I don't know what war it was though. Anyway, the "master" was my grandfather (my mom's dad). The "soothing sound of his voice" was the clarinet that he played in the army's band. The "rumbles" were like explosions or something that my grandfather would've experienced (I'm only guessing). And finally, the "girl" is me. I own his dog-tag now, and I won't lose it ever. He died before I was born, so I don't really know who he is. So when I wear the dog-tag and when I wrote this story, I feel/felt a connection.


Anonymous said…
Daughter, you move me to tears. I Love You!
Olive Tree said…
Hi, it's a very great blog.
I could tell how much efforts you've taken on it.
Keep doing!

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