Pencil: I’m sorry
Eraser: For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.
Pencil: I’m sorry cos you get hurt because of me. Whenever I made a mistake, you’re always there to erase it. But as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself. You get smaller and smaller each time.
Eraser: That’s true. But I don’t really mind. You see, I was made to do this. I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong. Even though one day, I know I’ll be gone and you’ll replace me with a new one, I’m actually happy with my job. So please, stop worrying. I hate seeing you sad.
~ the story is not made by myself, but it happened. i really do my job as much as i can, until the time was come and i can't do anymore.
what a lucky pencil, eraser always there for it