A less serious story.

My belonging short story:

Once upon a time, e.g. last Monday, a girl got her boobs blown off in a tragic incident. What the incident is, we don't know. However, we can be sure that it is Very Tragic™. 

The boobless girl wandered aimlessly around society, deprived of her squishy little puppies. This is her story.

Oh my, woe is me. I totally feel a lack of belonging within my high school society! I am no longer the most curvaceous one in my social group. I am no longer pursued by boys and girls alike. In fact, all the cool girls in my school laugh at me! Even the uncool girls laugh at me, and that is, like, so not on.  If I had the guts to, I would totally, like, cut myself. 

Oh, cruel world: I no longer feel like a female! It feels like I've been castrated. Except this is worse than being a eunuch, because I've got two (2) parts of my body cut off while a eunuch had one (1).

The space which had been once filled with twin spongy rock melons of tissue and fat is as empty as the gaping void I'm imprisoned in. In other words, very. 

Such are the thoughts running through our heroine's head as she traipsed breastlessly to the shops. On the way, however, a plot device changed her life forever. 

I was interrupted from my aimless wandering by a shrill scream. 

"AHHHHH HELPPP PERVERT!!!11!11"

Like a pack rats scenting the smell of cheese, the passers-by, me included, swiveled around to the source of the scream. And my life changed forever. 

That shrill scream's owner- O, what perfect perfect lovely wonderful puppies she had. Her gigantic shining golden beachballs bedazzled me, sending down shivers of jealously down my beachball-less chest. I've never wanted anything as badly as I did that moment, where my fingers itched to remove those shining suns and reattach them onto myself. 

A young man beside me whispered to his mate- 'Bet they're fake. What a bimbo.'

O, what how could I describe the wave of joy and hope that washed across me in those seconds. In my relief, I hugged him tightly, breastless chest to breastless chest. In that moment, I felt a flickering spark of kinship, ignited by our common bond. 

But he ran away. Oh well.

The epiphany remained, however. The way out of my current bereft state emerged like the sun after a thunderstorm

So our heroine went to the doctors' next morning and got some fake boobs, and lived happily ever after.

THE END.