Brave Little Toasters- Kayla Beebout

Backpacks.  They’re like the pack mules of students everywhere.  I’ve had mine since second grade, so she’s been through quite a bit.  Her name is Lydia, like the housecarl in Skyrim.  Whenever I’m packing her in the mornings, she is probably groaning, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling, and saying unenthusiastically, “I’m sworn to carry your burdens…”  She probably wishes I’d carry some of the stuff myself.  She hates class changes.  I don’t blame her—first, I make her carry all my books, then I sling her over my shoulder and merge into the chaotic hallways where she is always being bumped around and run into.  Bus rides aren’t much fun for her either.  Have you ever sat on the floor of a school bus?  It’s not an easy life, I’m sure.  She likes my classes fine, though.  She just gets to sit there, leaning forward a bit to compensate for the heavy books, and only has to worry about me accidently kicking her.  Which, unfortunately, happens fairly often.  What can I say?  I have long legs.  Nights are probably her favorite time.  She can just relax for a few hours, getting ready for the next day.  Wait, no, her favorite times are probably weekends, because then she gets two whole days off!  I think in the summer she hibernates, like the opposite of a bear or something.  She’s really tough, and really dependable, but I doubt she likes her job very much.