It was the October of my seventh year when this horrendous situation came my way.
The sky was the shade of indigo that people say can be found in rainbows, but you can never really see. Droplets of rain fell against the window harshly, like an army of quartz pebbles, but slid silently across the glass, making the world outside blurry, inaudible, a canvas of glowing silhouettes.
That didn’t matter, though. A cheesy scent lured me away from the window and I looked down into the sea of creamy, tangerine-colored curls. Mac and cheese, the food of kings.
Suddenly, a foul odor trailed in, a hideous stench to dominate all others. I sensed the bacteria floating in the air dying along the path of the merciless, ugly smell. I dropped my spoon and it drowned in the pool of mac and cheese. “Hey, I brought home some food.” My mom announced. She seemed to be immune to the odor.
Or maybe that plastic container in her hands was the source of the odor. She placed the container in front of me, sliding the plate of heavenly mac and cheese away from me. You monster, I thought. The smell was even close within my personal bubble. “Gross.” I pushed it away and reached for my original choice of food.
“You have to eat it.” she growled, which meant that she was all business. I surrendered, picking up the plate. Green beans. Boiled. I screeched in horror and despair. Suddenly I thought of the children in the world without food… and wanted to switch places with them. I would rather that fate than this cruel mockery. I changed my mind. “Never.” I grumbled.
“Well I guess you’ll be sitting there for a while.” the monster that used to be my mother cackled, and picked up my mac and cheese. She- no- it sashayed into the abyss, while I was stranded at the kitchen table, alone with my worst enemy. Man, I was stupid. I could have escaped while I had the chance.
I only had one choice. At this state, I was willing to do anything for freedom. I creeped out of the room, grabbed my Dexter’s Laboratory backpack, and ran for it, into the woods out the back of my house. I didn’t even know what I’d packed, but I was free. The rain didn’t matter, either.
Suddenly, the bushes rustled. The sky turned from indigo to the color of ink. Ravens shrieked from the treetops. Long branches of lightning crackled through the sky. I ran for it, again. How coincidental.
Back inside, I ran sopping wet, smack into my mother. I had lost. “I’m sorry mom.” I said guiltily as the storm raged outside. “It’s okay. I tasted the green beans and I guess they’re as bad as you said.” she replied.
That day, I learned that sometimes bad situations can turn into good ones. I also learned to never eat green beans ever again.