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I'm Just A Pet Rock

by LZPianoGirl


(A/N: This was written really quickly before I had to go to the dentist, so sorry for any stupid mistakes. Based it off of this tweet.)

“Look at this rock, mom!” a girl yelled. I had been watching her, playing with her dolls next to her big brick house, until she wandered over to me, “It’s going to be my pet.”

Next thing I knew, I was lifted up and taken indoors. The house was well furnished for the time period. The girl sat down on the large velvet couch, across from the large brick fireplace, and pulled out her pencils. She drew two eyes, and a small, crooked mouth on my surface, and her name on my bottom.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jameson,” the girl grinned, “My name’s Betty.”

And from that day on, Betty and I would be best friends. At least, I thought we would be. Within a month, Betty had forgotten about me. I was set on the top of the fireplace, next to a few pictures and under the mirror, to sit and collect dust.

Betty soon grew into a young woman. No longer was she the girl who had found and named me, but she was a gorgeous, head-strong lady. Her choice in dresses was interesting, but according to all the magazines on the table below me, it was the newest “fad” to have short hair and short skirts.

One day, Betty brought home a boy. Not just any boy, but a rich boy. Her father was pleased. Two months later, Betty and Joseph were married, and they moved in to Betty’s childhood bedroom.

“What is this?” Joseph said one day, picking me up, “What is a rock doing on the mantle?”

“Mother liked it,” Betty replied, on the same sofa she had played with me on. My mother liked it. Those words stung like a wasp. I thought Betty liked me, not her mother. Her mother hardly touched me, besides to remove the occasional layer of dust off.

Nothing of importance happened for another five years, except Betty giving birth to a little boy named James. I like to think she named him after me. Later in the decade, the stock market crashed. Joseph lost most of his money when his bank closed and father was no different. We were forced to sell some of their furniture, including the mirror and sofa, and replace them with other, cheaper items.

The decade was hard, but daily life seemed to go on. James grew up into an outgoing, energetic young man and as soon as he graduated highschool, he enlisted in the army. Betty was devastated, but Joseph was proud.

“My son’s fighting for our country!” He would boast, “He’s a true patriot.”

James eventually returned from war with a missing toe and a limp. He became a lawyer, married, and bought this home from Betty and Joseph. The house undertook a massive renovation. The bit of kitchen counters visible from the fireplace were now sky blue with metal. The living room was totally re-furnished, too. The cheap couch was replaced with a long, yellow one, and bookshelves were placed on either side of the fireplace, and a new TV was placed in front of the shelves.

James and Valerie had three kids: Theodore, Annie, and Genevieve, but I liked to call Genevieve “Diamond,” because of her light blue eyes.

Slowly but surely, the kids grew up like everyone else. Theo went to Harvard, Annie opened a bakery, but Diamond stayed at home, unsure of what she wanted to do.

“What is this, again?” Diamond asked, tossing me up and down.

“Be careful with that, honey,” James replied, pointing his cane at a photo of Betty on the wall, “It was your grandmother’s pet rock as a child.”

“Can I have it?”

“Sure.”

Diamond set me in her pocket and went upstairs, to her bedroom. It was well decorated and had plenty of pictures on the walls. One of them was of a man with greasy hair and another was a picture of Diamond, Theo, and Annie. Diamond placed me on top of the desk in the corner of her room.

For months, Diamond would sit at her desk, write on some paper, then type on a typewriter. Sometimes she would talk to herself, saying things such as, “God, I’m such an idiot!” or “Finally, chapter sixteen!”

One day, Diamond came in with a book in her hands and faced the wall.

“So, I know you guys aren’t alive, and can’t talk, but...” Diamond held up the book in her hands and squealed, “I wrote a play!”

The next decade was a blur. Diamond didn’t marry, but devoted herself to writing and her plays. Sometimes she would act out parts in front of the desk, so I could get a glimpse into her plays.

“Do I look OK?” Diamond asked, reading off of her script. Quickly, she jumped to the other side of the room, “You look absolutely terrible,” jumping to the other side once again, she sighed, “Thanks.”

Diamond did eventually take me back to the fireplace, back to the view I was so used to. Nothing had changed, except for the couch. It was leather.

One day, in May of 1971 (according to the calendar), she brought home a baby named Donna. Diamond didn’t marry until after Donna’s birth, to a man named Daniel. He was an actor in one of Diamond’s plays. My best guess is that they must have fallen in love on set.

“Nice rock, Gen,” Daniel chuckled, “Did your kid make it?”

“She isn’t ‘my kid.’ Her name is Donna,” Diamond replied, “And, no, it was my grandma’s.”

One day, Daniel started packing the things he had brought into the house, and about a week later, he never came back.

Diamond or Donna seemed happier without him. Donna was only a young teen, maybe fifteen, but according to her and Diamond’s conversations, was doing “college level work.”

Donna didn’t take me to college. She didn’t take Diamond either, so we were left alone. Diamond worked on her plays, and I watched as she performed them in front of the mirror above the fireplace.

Diamond died suddenly, right after Donna graduated. Donna moved back into the house one day and started packing things up. Most of the pictures on the walls were put in boxes, the TV was thrown out, and Diamond’s pile of papers were moved into the basement.

“Who are you?” Donna said, flipping me over. She examined Betty’s name on my bottom before turning me back over, “Huh. Guess I’ll put you near the heirlooms.”

So she did. Donna set me next to some photos of Joseph and Betty on the top shelf. She never did check on me again, except to show some relatives the photographs.

Occasionally two little children will come downstairs and look at the items around me, plus another woman who Donna calls “dear” or “honey.”

But for now, I’m forgotten.

After all, I’m just a pet rock.


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Sun Sep 13, 2020 6:52 pm
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starlitmind wrote a review...



Hey you! <3 Thanks for writing something from a non-human POV so I can cross that challenge off the checklist xD Your title is very intriguing and is what caught my attention in the first place. I skimmed through the other reviews so I wound't repeat what others had said, but if I do, then pardon me!

Okay that tweet was pretty sad so now I'm scared.

“Look at this rock, mom!”


Since "mom" is being used as a name, it should be capitalized :)

I had been watching her, playing with her dolls next to her big brick house, until she wandered over to me, “It’s going to be my pet.”


Ah, so this is how it all began. I'd end the sentence with a period instead of a quote since it's not a tag.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jameson,” the girl grinned, “My name’s Betty.”


That's quite the name for a pet rock xD Same thing here about the comma and period.

And from that day on, Betty and I would be best friends. At least, I thought we would be.


Oh no ;(

Within a month, Betty had forgotten about me. I was set on the top of the fireplace, next to a few pictures and under the mirror, to sit and collect dust.


NOOOO </3

it was the newest “fad” to have short hair and short skirts.


I like this little hint to the time

Later in the decade, the stock market crashed.


Ooh same here

“Be careful with that, honey,” James replied, pointing his cane at a photo of Betty on the wall, “It was your grandmother’s pet rock as a child.”


AHH so much time has passed

“God, I’m such an idiot!” or “Finally, chapter sixteen!”


Haha, I love this xD

But for now, I’m forgotten.

After all, I’m just a pet rock.


Why do I feel so bad for a pet rock </3

I realize that this was written really quickly and you didn't have much time, so I understand why things moved quickly. However, if you were to go back and edit this, I would definitely recommend slowing down a bit. Things seemed to move too fast in my opinion, and it was a bit hard to keep track of what was happening.

That said, I really love this story! It was pretty sad, and it reminds me of all the rocks I used to paint but now forgotten xD

I was actually trying to make it not very detailed, because it's a pet rock, and I think pet rocks wouldn't really understand much


I think that's clever and makes sense!!

I really enjoyed this story; it has opened my mind to a new perspective, and I shall now be more loving to my pet rocks :P Thanks for wiring this; it was quite entertaining! Your stories are always wonderful <3 I hope this helped! :D

Image




LZPianoGirl says...


Thank you so much! If I ever do edit it, I will definitely make sure to slow it down!



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Thu Sep 10, 2020 1:06 pm
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LordMomo wrote a review...



Lord Momo of the Momo Dynasty, His Momoness is here to review this absolutely wonderful work! Let's get started!

The house was well furnished for the time period.

What is the time period? I think you should specify that sooner.

One day, in May of 1971 (according to the calendar), she brought home a baby named Donna. Diamond didn’t marry until after Donna’s birth, to a man named Daniel.

Who is Donna's father, then?

Occasionally two little children will come downstairs and look at the items around me, plus another woman who Donna calls “dear” or “honey.”

Who is this woman? Donna's daughter?

And that's really it. Other then those things, I really like this story!! Keep writing, and have a happy RevMo!
LordMomo
Image




LZPianoGirl says...


Thanks for the review! To answer your questions:

1. The time period when it began was the early/mid 1910s.
2. Donna's father is unknown, really. :/
3. The woman is Donna's wife.

Again, thanks for the review!



LordMomo says...


ok



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Wed Sep 09, 2020 5:03 pm
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Vil wrote a review...



First Impression
Wow. The life of a pet rock is... depressing. I'm happy I'm a cat person and not a rock person... I've also just remembered that rocks aren't living things, what on earth am I talking about? XD

What I Dislike
I really feel like I can't connect to Mr. Jameson throughout most of this-- probably because I live in my room and choose to stay there rather than be forced to live my life on a shelf. The only real connection I personally felt was when he reminisced about Diamond. The rest were just kinda... "Yeah, they existed in my life too, but *insert words here*."

What I Like
The connections made between Mr. Jameson and Diamond were really unique. I was startled when she yelled out the bit about Chapter 16 because that's coincidentally where I've got some writer's block. XD

No grammatical errors! Yay! :D

I really like that you've thrown a twist into this story and written the life of a pet rock as though the rock were a living thing. It reminds me of something I reviewed after I first joined where someone used an engagement ring as their storyteller.

In Summary
Although I think this is a pretty unique story, I felt that it was a bit dull. I really liked the connections with Diamond, and I hope that rock's life gets better. Maybe he'll meet a nice rock therapist?

Have a nice [*insert time of day here*]!!!




LZPianoGirl says...


Thanks for the review, Vil! I think I will add some detail in it soon, but I really don't have time for that right now. xD



Vil says...


You're welcome, and ok!



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Wed Sep 02, 2020 10:42 pm
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spunkyspacekitty wrote a review...



Hi LZpianogirl,

this was a very creative story. I don't think many people would think of doing a story from the view of a pet rock. Its quite hilarious how everyone just assumes the rock is a heirloom, and doesn't get rid of Mr.Jameson. It was very simple, which kinda makes sense, since its from the point of view of a rock. Also, did you mean a man when you said,

"plus another woman who Donna calls “dear” or “honey.”"

Also why did Joeseph's name suddenly get changed to Richard? Anyway, really loved the story.

spacekitty




LZPianoGirl says...


Thanks for the review! I fixed the issue with Joseph and Richard, but I did mean a woman. Thanks again!



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Tue Sep 01, 2020 8:37 pm
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TeyaKnife wrote a review...



Hello! I'm new to this website, so I'm going to give this a try.

Over-all this was a nice story, and I would say that I did enjoy this. I also liked how much you managed pack into this sweet, short story. However, some of the grammar isn't correct, and I would suggest reading your story thoroughly before posting it. I've already read the other comments, so you clearly don't need to read the same thing over again. I would also recommend trying to describe the surrounds slightly better, or add more details such as other heirlooms that this rock was next too. I don't know, I just PERSONALLY enjoy being able to truly envision what's happening in the story. You also used quite a few simple words, and I feel as though the style of writing doesn't really remind me of what it would be in the time period you had said, 1971 and lower.

Again, you did a nice job, and I definitely would encourage you to continue writing! Thank you!




LZPianoGirl says...


Thank you so much! I am honored to be your first review. I was actually trying to make it not very detailed, because it's a pet rock, and I think pet rocks wouldn't really understand much, but I will fix the grammar! Thanks again!



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Tue Sep 01, 2020 4:09 pm
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Liberty says...



I want a pet rock now, please and thank you very much.




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IconspicuoslyAlpacaing wrote a review...



Hello there! Alpacas comin' at you with a review.

I'd like to start by saying that this short story was wonderful, and an absolute delight to read. There were very few mistakes from what I can tell, so this is going to be fairly nit-picky, and id like you to keep in mind that none of the errors I'm about to point actually drew away from this captivating, and quite frankly, saddening tale.

Next thing I knew, I was lifted up and took indoors.
'Took' should be 'taken' in this instance.

The house was well furnished for the time period.
This would have been a lot more effective if you added more details about the home, as well as giving the reader a much clearer idea of the general time period. While you do mention a couple things in the next line, they're fairly generic, and not particularly specific to any era. This sentence was also a bit choppy.

At some point, Betty's husband's name switches from Joseph to Richard.

My final critique would be that you don't establish Valerie's name, and while I was able to infer that she was James's wife, it was a little jarring to have yet another character name thrown into the fray. Simply changing the previous quote to "He became a lawyer, married a woman named Valerie, and bought this home from Betty and Richard." would've helped loads.

Like I said earlier in the review, these were all relatively minor, and I adored the entire experience. Usually I'd critique your general lack of character descriptions, but that really adds to the feeling of time quickly passing, and all the faces and events beginning to blur together.

I sincerely hope this was helpful, and I wish upon you a phenomenal #RevMo !

- Alpaca




LZPianoGirl says...


Thank you for the review! I really appreciate it.



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Tue Sep 01, 2020 4:22 am
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HarryHardy wrote a review...



Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi LZ!! It looks like this is going to be first review for #RevMo . Let's see how this one holds up.

First Impression: This was a really nice little story. You actually made me feel sad for this rock there which is very hard because usually I don't even feel all that many emotions even with humans sometimes. And I think its just a really nice depiction of how time tends to move on and I'm a big fan of that type of thing so that makes me like this one even more.

Anyway let's get right to it,

“Look at this rock, mom!” a girl yelled. I had been watching her, playing with her dolls next to her big brick house, until she wandered over to me, “It’s going to be my pet.”


Pretty decent opening line there. Quickly establishes what's going to happen.

Next thing I knew, I was lifted up and took indoors. The house was well furnished for the time period. The girl sat down on the large velvet couch, across from the large brick fireplace, and pulled out her pencils. She drew two eyes, and a small, crooked mouth on my surface, and her name on my bottom.


I think that should be taken.

And the "well furnished" part. When you say for the time period I don't quite get why Mr. Jameson would be saying that because that makes it sound like he's from another time period and is commenting on this one. I think simply saying it was well furnished would be better.

And from that day on, Betty and I would be best friends. At least, I thought we would be. Within a month, Betty had forgotten about me. I was set on the top of the fireplace, next to a few pictures and under the mirror, to sit and collect dust.


Well that is what usually happens with young children.

“Mother liked it,” Betty replied, on the same sofa she had played with me on. My mother liked it. Those words stung like a wasp. I thought Betty liked me, not her mother. Her mother hardly touched me, besides to remove the occasional layer of dust off.


I don't know how but you manage to convey this rock's emotions well enough that I felt sad at this point. Maybe I just have a soft spot for things forgotten across time.

James eventually returned from war with a missing toe and a limp. He became a lawyer, married, and bought this home from Betty and Richard. The house undertook a massive renovation. The bit of kitchen counters visible from the fireplace were now sky blue with metal. The living room was totally re-furnished, too. The cheap couch was replaced with a long, yellow one, and bookshelves were placed on either side of the fireplace, and a new TV was placed in front of the shelves.


Wait a minute the kid had to buy the house from his parents? Because the way its written that's the feeling I got. Or have I missed something?

Diamond set me in her pocket and went upstairs, to her bedroom. It was well decorated and had plenty of pictures on the walls. One of them was of a man with greasy hair and another was a picture of Diamond, Theo, and Annie. Diamond placed me on top of the desk in the corner of her room.


Good description there.

Diamond died suddenly, right after Donna graduated. Donna moved back into the house one day and started packing things up. Most of the pictures on the walls were put in boxes, the TV was thrown out, and Diamond’s pile of papers were moved into the basement.


Well you actually did a pretty good job investing us in Diamond us well there. Definitely felt like a meaningful death.

Occasionally two little children will come downstairs and look at the items around me, plus another woman who Donna calls “dear” or “honey.”

But for now, I’m forgotten.

After all, I’m just a pet rock.


Aaand that's a great ending there. Very true to what would go down in real life and I actual feel pretty sad about this rock being forgotten like this. Poor Mr. Jameson. Hopefully someone becomes his friend again one day.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

Overall: So this was a pretty cool story. Something that I haven't seen before (the point of view of a rock) and you've done a pretty realistic version of the sort of life a rock would have. It was a very simple idea and you executed it really well. Nothing that I would change about this. Great Job!!

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Harry




LZPianoGirl says...


Thank you so much Harry! I appreciate it!



HarryHardy says...


Your Welcome!!




For in everything it is no easy task to find the middle ... anyone can get angry—that is easy—or give or spend money; but to do this to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right motive, and in the right way, that is not for everyone, nor is it easy; wherefore goodness is both rare and laudable and noble.
— Aristotle