Seven

Don’t want to sleep, can’t sleep. Got an assignment due in 7 hours that I was given 7 weeks to complete. Should make a start. Then I can finish that game I bought the other day. It’s about a plumber with a vengeance for turtles. I guess one of them kicked his dog when he was a kid or something. Guess I should make some coffee.

Downstairs and I can’t make up my mind- there’s three choices of coffee here. One has “smooth and satisfying” written all over it, one’s called Tanshao, and one has a sticker on it telling me I can win a holiday four two. Oh whatever:

Eeny meeny miney- THAT ONE!

I open the lid of the Tanshao tin and- hey…double-yu tee eff. The coffee is white. I’m getting worried, what kind of coffee is pure white? Oh whatever, it’s not like it’s coke. Munching on brown sugar while the kettle boils. Tastes even better than spoonfuls of Milo straight from the tin. Munch munch much. *click* The water’s ready and I fill my mug with it. Three teaspoons of Tanshao go swish.

………still no flavour comes knocking on the door. “Maybe it is coke.” Oh whatever, so I add three spoons of “smooth and satisfying”. Swish again…bu-whu-nudda-whut? It’s black this time. Since when does white + brown = BLACK ? “Maybe it is Tanshao”. What is Tanshao anyway? Oh man… It’s so damn black… Blacker than black. I mean, it’s my favourite colour and all, but this is like a black hole put in a blender. I can see the daaarkness in the black. The evil. I can even smell it now, the waft of benevolence. “Lol.”

Oh whatever, this is my coffee. I brace myself for my soul to be consumed by the deepest realms of darkness. I warn myself that such evil darkness may douse every light I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I briefly imagine the dark horrors that will flood all my seven senses. (I smell dead people.) I lift the mug (which also happens to be black) to my lips, the everlasting darkness longing to invade my sanity.

Strawberries. And flowers. What? And sunshine and laughter and yellow and all connotations of happiness…? What? Where’d all that darkness go? Daisies singing songs of love, dancing in the serafic rays of our dear sun. It tastes like all these happy things. Happy, happy, happy. I can taste them all! I can taste kisses, utter joviality, sunflowers, high spirits, kittens, merriness, complete bliss, exhiliration- Wait. No… Wait. KITTENS? Why do I taste KITTENS?!? Is this that ‘evil darkness’? Why the turd do I even know what kittens taste like?!??

I look down at the pool of black. And see myself staring back at me. Talking to me.

“You still don’t know. Do you.”

What?

I hear a cat, a baby one- miaow.

“What you do.”

What?

He grins.

Think I hear a cat miaowing again.

More like a scream.

Red is all over his face. My face. I mean, his.

AAARGH!!!

My fist soars towards this…execration.

“LEAVE ME.”

.

.

…

He leaves. The coffee is light brown. I take my hand out.

It’s red.

Blood is red.

Blood on me.

Blood on my lips.

…it tastes like… watermelon?

Swish.

“Wake up,” I hear.
“Watermelon…”
“What?”
“Euh?” is what I say.
“Wake up. I made you coffee.”

AAARGH!!!

…Oh, whatever.

This entry was written on September 7, 2007 by Seventeen. It is about/includes mentions of memories. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.