Through the Lens 

2025 3rd-4th Grade Prose Winner

   All my worker told me before I left him was that I was a special camera designed to have an amazing life. And I did. I was sold the second daybreak came.

   A child about five years old ripped the packaging open with a tearful face. The little girl, Amy, had straight blonde hair and blue eyes, and had just lost her dad. Amy was a caring owner who took me with her on every single trip. 

   “Click!” Amy took a photo of her friend’s birthday party, all of them smiling their big, wide smiles.

   “I plan to become a photographer one day,” she told me afterwards. “With you as my camera.” And with that, she signed her name on my face with a marker.

   The very next day, she was walking with me when a hooded man approached us. With lightning speed, he grabbed me from Amy’s hands, and not two seconds later, he dropped me on the ground.

   Another child picked me up and started shaking me until I turned on. I later learned that this nine-year-old boy, Olly, with dark brown hair and green eyes, was the son of a photographer. Then I remembered Amy’s promise and felt something inside me drop.

   Oliver took me with him on mountains and hiking trips. He made sure I was by his side at all times. He never saw Amy’s photos because he never bothered to look. He was a careless boy who always found some kind of trouble each and every day.

   As he took me to school with him one day, he made the mistake of putting me in his side pocket. He was walking across the street when a car came speeding toward us. He ran, and I clattered onto the hot pavement. He did not even turn around to look at me, maybe worried about his upcoming test. Whatsoever, that was my last glimpse of him.

   A woman ran to pick me up, literally jumping out of the car her husband was driving. Inside the car was a little kid, only a few months old. The woman scolded her husband that they might have gotten a flat tire if they had run over me. She brought me home and took pictures of her family hugging each other. They made me think of my own family: my dad and mom with a few aunties, uncles, and cousins. That I had only gotten a glimpse of.

   Soon, there were packing boxes everywhere, all labeled with words like Bathroom, Kitchen Room1, Master. Her husband kept reminding her to pack me right away. But I stayed on her night table. And sure enough, she forgot me on the floor.

   “Oh!” A woman with light brown hair walked into the bedroom with a man about her age. They were both smiling and laughing over the silliest jokes. When they saw me, they laughed all over again, acting like something just fit into place.

   They had only lived here for a few days but acted as if they had been living here their whole lives. Two days later, everyone was dressed very fancy, and I was brought into a fancy car with them. They were love birds about to be married.

   They took a couple of pictures with me, and right after, when they walked outside to get a picture of the mountains, the man took a great photo with me. The female said, "Now let me try.” But as she bent over to click the button, I slid from her hands.

   I clattered down the mountains and onto a sidewalk.

   I stayed there for a couple nights, where people ignored me. Until one teenage girl walked past me, stopped, and walked back to me again. She had straight blonde hair and blue eyes, and was only with her mom, not her dad. She scanned me strangely until her mom said, “Amy, just leave it. We must go.” She sighed but didn’t respond to her mom.

   “It’s your dad’s funeral, Amy!”

   I realized then that today had been the exact day, just twenty years ago, a girl named Amy had received me. I looked at the teenage girl and time froze. It really was her, I thought, as she found the name she had signed on me so many years before. Her expression was priceless: With tears in her eyes, she said, “I will never lose you ever again,” as Amy, now big, hugged me tight.