D.J.

Write from the point of view of a stack of paper a few inches away from the shredder.

As the thin slices of paper layer stacked over each other, they a wait the trouble ahead of them. The paper is about to be killed by the paper shredder, sliced into many little pieces. The life is about to be sucked out, from the tree made paper.
" I can see the end of my life right there, ready to grab on and beat me into parts like its the first time the boss turned it on" says Bobby, one of the million papers.
" Oh, would you cut it out, the boss is going to get a phone call or something and leave us behind. He doesnt know it yet, but he needs us" said Johnny, a young  paper boy who didnt have a dot of sweat or mark on him. Johnny was the type of paper that sat around on the weekends and didnt do any work, he would be moved and then the boss would need to do something else and leave him on the side. So Johnny never worried he always knew there would be something else.
Then all of a sudden the stack of finger oiled papers were lifted off the desk and sat in the hands of the Boss. He went over to the shredder, as it was already turned on and ready to go. Boss took the top paper and pushed it through the sharp cutter. Bobby and Johnny looked over at each other, now they both believed this was the end for them. Boss grabbed Johnny carelessly, so Johnny bent himself to give Boss a paper cut. This was his was of mking himself, johnny a man. Boss got mad so as he started to push paper Johnny into the shredder, the machine stopped working. Boss set down the paper and as he was about to fix it, the phone rang so once again... Boss left the papers and they were safe!! FOR NOW...