Pancakes have explosive tendencies (Mi)

Pancakes have explosive tendencies

Mi

That night I burned. I said nothing else to Connor after he had pointed out all of the things in the house that could trip me up and retreated to my room, but it did nothing to settle me down. I was going to fall anyway and I spent the night in blistering heated agony and frozen solid limbs and there was nothing that could make it go away, and no one to even try and chase it away. I spent the night rocking and crying and clawing at my arms until the skin peeled off under my fingernails making the flesh underneath sorer then even cuts could, but it did nothing to make the pain go away, or to make my head stop spinning around. I thought I was going to die or and least go up in flames but eventually the morning came and the staff knocked on my door to “wake me up” even though I had not slept at all. Of course then came the breakfast to drive me off of the very thin ledge I was on.

The unit’s breakfast was predictable and I liked it that way. It had once taken me to my knees to be presented with cereal, toast and some sort of fruit juice and told that I had to eat it all but in its familiarity I had come to learn how to switch off some of the dread that come with these foods. I had learnt to drown out the screaming and protesting with solid chewing and the exact knowledge of how every last thing would look, taste, feel and even sound. Even though I was messed up and my insides felt like they were about to burst from the day before there was a chance I could have pushed toast down my mouth, chewed, and swallowed.  I might have made it through breakfast and back to my room before my brain imploded. Today however, some dick head dietician and decided to present me with 3 blueberry pancakes and a pot of natural yoghurt to make me unravel.

My mind did the calculations before I could stop them from doing it. A blueberry pancake, about six inches in diameter, 171 calories. There were three of them, 513. One pot of natural yoghurt; six ounces of it. 150  calories. 663 calories altogether. Build up menu size again. over 100 calories more than usual. Internal explosion. Blood. Fire. Carnage. Fleeing.

I wanted to protest. I wanted to stand up get up on the table and stomp the pancakes into oblivion. I wanted to slam both my wrist so hard down onto the Formica that the table cracked and my bones splintered. I wanted to plunge my fork into my chest and pull it open so I could reach in and squeeze my heart until it burst open and the blood spattered the walls and windows. I wanted to rip the flesh off of my bones and poor on the acid until they dissolved and I wanted to laugh allowed as I did it.

I inflated my lungs in a rush and held onto the table with all my might as a nurse announced we could start and forks began crashing against plates and teeth started an assault on cooked batter. For the first time in ages I found myself observing others at meal times and not in my bubble of food and it was disgusting to behold. I could hear and see absolutely everything in high definition and my wind piped closed in and my system filled with even more acid. I could hear a billion knives and forks smashing against ceramic and a thousand throats gulping as the food went into their stomach  and splattered like bird shit onto the ground. I could see half eaten food swirling around inside mouths and through teeth as stubborn crumbs stuck in the corners of people mouths. Inside my head a trillion voices screamed and laughed and crunched and slurped with just one in particular that chanted at me to eat … eat …. Eat …eat!

I screamed, The noise escaping from my mouth in a high pitched rush before I picked up the plate and open pot of yoghurt and lobbed it across the dining room towards the door. The ceramic smashed into tiny pieces and the pancakes landed across Emmets face while the natural yoghurt thumped him square in the chest before dripping down onto his shoes. I had found a way to silence the masses.