THIS STORY IS KIND OF A TRAGIC COMEDY? SORT OF? I DON'T KNOW, DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY.


It was Thursday. I prepared myself to go to school as my mother told me to come forward to eat breakfast. I put on some clothes rapidly and we were on our way. I brought my lab coat, knowing I will use it since we are assigned Science Lab on thursdays. I had a conflict with science labs. I felt somehow intimidated by them, their rough white walls enclosed me in an emotional despair, I heard the crisp when someone lied on them, the sweet sensation when rubbing the walls, the tables, the materials. It was a pleasure to be in the lab, but my classmates always looked startled when they saw me connecting so peacefully with a nonliving room.

We worked with apples. Who cares about ordinary apples, though? Unless you're hungry. Or unless... that apple belonged to the lab. And that red, ominous apple was in possesion by it. I feel intimidated by it, as I think it's an extension itself of the gorgeous lab. I treat it with care, until something that I would hate if it happened occured.

My ignorant teacher took a thin and deleterious knife to slice the apple in four painful slices. How could someone do that? That apple was no ordinary apple. Before she could fulfill her greatest and cruel desire to slice the apple and watch it scream in terror while her evil clutches rubbed it with detrimental pleasure, I pushed my own teacher and she was knocked out on the floor. Everyone stared, but I only cared for the apple. Before she woke up and decided to continue what she was trying to do, I saw the apple and I sweated and trembled. Its presence made me shake uncontrollably. I was intimidated by seeing my friends eat all their materials, so I followed their lead. I ate the laboratory apple. I ate it.

But I ate it to protect it. Maybe it will vigorously burn sunken on my stomach acids and devoured through my gastrointestinal tracts, but it wouldn't be in bad hands then, it wouldn't. My teacher woke up and I lied about having a spontaneous tick in my arm, causing me to push her. She ridiculously believed it, but still gave me a detention for eating the apple. I didn't care, though. I knew the apple would be safe, and I knew that from my insides, the apple was thanking me for not letting that crazed woman slice it while she enjoyed the apple's pain. But it wasn't over, oh it wasn't.

The apple was filling my days with angst and fear, guilt. I felt guilty for eating it, what if the teacher just wanted to show us the knife? The scared look of the red apple still causes me sleeplessness some nights. I will never forget that apple. That apple was life-changing, and I will never, ever forget it.

Ever.