My whole body was tense as I waited to find out what death felt like.
Needless to say, I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard a noise break the tense silence.
"Jeremy?"
But the voice that came then was very different from the Cheese-puff-leader voice. My heart skipped a beat as I realized who it was. Diane! Oh no, had she heard me yelling at the chip? I opened my eyes slowly and stared at the now inert forms of the supposed "conquerors of worlds," now looking innocently like a bunch of chips that had been spilled on the ground. "Jeremy?" came the voice again, sweet and soft. I threw my gaze upwards towards its source and found myself looking into the beautiful blue eyes of my sweet love, Diane.
"D-Diane!" I gasped. Another wave of pain shot through me. "M-my stomach." I groaned and clutched at it even tighter.
"Oh, poor thing," Diane said. She knelt beside me and gently touched the spot next to my white-knuckled hand. Instantly, the pain ceased. It was like a miracle. One minute I felt like I was dying, and the next, I was perfectly fine. Diane really was an angel from heaven! I was incredibly relieved at my sudden release from pain, but I didn't want to look suspicious after all of the fuss, so I pretended to be in agony still. Truthfully, I think I overdid it a little bit, just for the attention. Diane helped me to my feet and supported me all the way home. In between my moaning and groaning, she rubbed my back and reassured me that it would be all right, that I would be home soon and could take some medicine and feel all better. I soaked up her presence, her touch, and her words. I was ten feet above the pavement, floating on cloud nine. When we got to my blue-painted, two story house, she opened the door, took me over to the couch, and helped me lie down.
My mother heard us and came rushing in. She immediately took charge, asking me what was wrong and forcing some antacid pills down my throat; but still Diane stayed, that wonderful girl, my ravishing beauty, the best friend I ever had, the lover of my soul! Finally, after mom left and I lay slumped on the couch, now regretting my over-the-top act due to the chalky taste in my mouth, Diane got up and said, "Well, see you tomorrow, Jeremy. Hope you feel better."
"Thank you, Diane. See you," I called after her. She gave me a small smile and shut the door.
Immediately after the door was shut, my mother came bustling back in the room, a dripping wet washcloth in her hand. "Why, it was certainly surprising to see little Diane over at our house, wasn't it, Jeremy dear? Oh, she's such as sweet girl, always helping people and doing her homework… At last, that's what her mother tells me. A rather shy girl, she is." Mom plopped the freezing piece of wet cotton onto my perfectly fine forehead. "And how are you feeling, darling? Any better? Did you eat something awful today in the cafeteria? Oh, I keep telling myself I need to make you packed lunches, I just never seem to have time in the mornings! So busy… Speaking of which, I need to go to the bank tomorrow afternoon and deposit that check, and then there's the award ceremony at the country club for your father, and then I'm making dinner for the Williamsons, they just lost their great-aunt three times removed, poor dears… I really must write all of this down…" At this point I simply tuned my mother out. She could rant like nobody else I knew. My thoughts, given no other occupation, immediately turned to the mutant chips. I wondered if they could somehow sneak through my window in the night and take me by force. The fact that they were lying on the side of the road gave me a little sense of extra security, but not much. Maybe I really would get turned into a cookie after all! I immediately began thinking of how to chip-proof my room.
I had only just thought of buying a flock of starving birds to guard me during the nights when my brainstorming was interrupted by a sudden sound: the ringing of the doorbell. Mom peeked through the eyehole and announced to me in the loudest voice imaginable, "Oh, why it's Diane, Jeremy! My, twice in one day, you must have really made an impression!" She giggled in her annoyingly oblivious way and swung open the oak door. I groaned and quickly ducked behind a couch cushion so I couldn't see Diane's face; and, better yet, she couldn't see how red mine was.
"Hello Mrs. Pataki. I just came to give this back to Jeremy. He dropped it when he fell over, and there were some chips left, so I thought maybe he might want them back." My heart stopped as I heard the unmistakable sound of a rustling Crunchies bag. My Crunchies bag. The one filled with dozens of mutant chip warriors. Why, oh why, had Diane gone back for that stupid bag? Why couldn't she just leave things alone? Faintly my subconscious registered the sounds of Diane saying goodbye and my mother closing the door. But the rustling of the chip bag was louder than I imagined it could possibly be. It was almost like somebody had hooked it up to a sound system and was blaring it into my ears. And it was getting closer, closer, always closer….
A tap on my shoulder jerked me violently out of my terrifying thoughts. The first thing I saw was the Crunchies bag, right in front of my face. "Ahhh!" I shrieked and slapped the bag away, sending the pieces flying everywhere.
My mother stood in complete shock as I stared at the unmoving pieces and tried to stop hyperventilating. "Jeremy Fitzgerald Pataki, what on earth was that? Diane brought those chips all the way from down the street for you, and you act like they're the plague. I just don't know what's gotten into you today."
"Uh… It's just my stomach, Mom. It hurts soooo much," I said, quickly remembering that I was supposed to be in throes of agony. I clutched my stomach, flopped face-down onto the couch, and groaned as loudly as I could.
"Oh, poor thing. Well, why don't you just rest and drink your Ginger Ale, and I'll clean up this mess. Alright, sweetie? I just want my boy feeling better." With that, she gave me a kiss on the top of my buried head and swept out of the room. With the ear not buried in the couch cushions, I listened as she got out the vacuum and sucked up the chips that lay scattered across the floor. Then I heard the sound of the chip bag, which not long ago was so loud and horrifying, growing softer and softer until it disappeared altogether. I gave a sigh of relief and relaxed. Now maybe I could think of Diane and her black hair and blue eyes…