Jeff sat in the box for a long time, though he couldn't be sure how long it was. He had the sense that it might be in a garage, he felt like it was cold for a while then warm then cold as the seasons cycled. He lost track of how long and how many, just because the years of isolation and loneliness made it hard to keep track.
Finally, he felt the box open up. He looked into the light for the first time to see an unfamiliar man looking in. "Look at this crap," he muttered. The man sorted though the box, looking breifly at the toys in the box, "None of this is even worth posting on Ebay."
With that, and with Jeff screaming in his mind, he was tossed into a trash can with a load of lawn clippings and some other old, useless toys. He waited in the dark for a while longer before he felt the can lifted into the air and then dumped into the truck. His box slid across a stream of spoiled milk before it was buried in a piled of broken lumber. Finally, he was dumped into a landfill, and for a short, glorious hour, he was looking up at the sky.
Jeff would have cried if he had tear ducts.
Then he heard the rumble of a bulldozer close in, and in a flash, he tumbled over and was buried under a mound of trash. He felt is space close in around him until he was compressed all around, his cardboard backing was wrapped around him and dissolving, his face pressed into the clear plastic. He could smell, at least a little, but with no air around him he didn't smell much.
Over the next days and weeks, he sensed the pressure of the bulldozer over him as more and more garbage was buried around him. Then, after a time, it stopped.
He wasn't sure why. Did he get buried so deep that he couldn't even feel it anymore? Was the landfill closed?
Jeff wanted nothing more than to die. But how does a sentient plastic toy die?
Buried under tons and tons of waste, a tiny, forgotten toy waited for his fate.