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25 - BITE

30 Days, 30 Stories

By Elizabeth ButlerPublished about a year ago 4 min read

26 - BITE

I bit into Satans fruit. Unlike the fairytales were beautiful Princess suck their teeth into the voluptuous taste, it’s juices pouring down the throat turning any feeling into luxury before gracefully falling on the floor, something soft to break their fall, I didn’t.

I wasn’t offered by a sweet old lady in the first place, I was taken by the scruff of my neck, my hair pulling with force as a handsome man pushed me into a toilet cubicle, his bodyguards taking hold of me, one side being pressed down into the toilet water, the other pushing a disgusting looking fruit to my lips.

“Choose.” I bellowed from behind.

I’d rather not, but in this situation, being thrown into toilet water head first seemed the less appealing option.

“Fine! Give me that.” I tugged at the fruit the beefy man had wrapped hold.

My senses started tingling, the smell was foul, as if something had buried and died all inside.

I closed my eyes, my view of the toilet seat was the only thing I could really see, apart from the shoes on everyone’s feet.

I took a chomp, my teeth digging inside. The foul smell grew around the cubical, even more smellier than the bathroom.

It tasted like death, as if I had bitten into a corpse that had been rotting for years. I started down to see many black maggot creatures, they weren’t moving, it really was the playground for the dead.

I squeezed my eyes closed, if I couldn’t see everything would be better, right? The smell in the air didn’t help the situation, the case of the fruit had trapped most of the stink inside the core but I kept eating.

Every mouth was tauter. It seemed as though this was my fairytale ending and it wasn’t going to end happily.

It was my own fault. I was the only one to blame for getting in this mess, if every fairytale turned this way, people would rather live stuck in their pathetic lives.

I needed money, fast. Living on your own, in your own apartment with barely any work to come by isn’t really ideal. The landlord was arriving and I needed something to give back.

I did odd jobs, as they came, which wasn’t very often. My stupid situation started when an advertisement rolled up in the corner cafe wanting a part time cleaner for this large townhouse that was renounced for hosting large parties.

This meant, more money for me and the chance to see these luxurious parties for myself, to see how the other half entertained.

The party was literally crazy. One guy swung on one of their chandeliers, One woman brought her pet Ostrich, it was sickening, watching good and money floating away without any care which made me turn irrationally angry.

Most of the party was completely drunk. Gallons of champagne gushing from glasses like waterfalls. The mess began piling up hour by hour, the more drunk they got the more they didn’t see to care about social norms.

I had one trash bag in hand, the other an half empty bottle of champagne. Nobody was interested in me, it was as though I was just invisible, a fairy magically zapping rubbish away.

I rushed up a winding marvel staircase and entered the first bedroom I came across. Everywhere I looked was either white marble or pastel pink glistening in the light. A large king sized bed stood in the middle where I leaped onto like a bouncing castle, the rubbish bag and bottle still in hand.

I lay champagne in my mouth, drifting to sleep. the next thing I remembered was movement, someone rushing up stairs. I was dazed and confused from my nap, I couldn’t make sense what was happening.

He towered over me. His shadow casting over me. No one said anything to me. The guards just appeared from behind him where they were ripping me from the bed.

They dragged me into the on sweet bathroom. All pink marble and shiny gold trapped inside the pattern. Why the only toilet was inside a cubicle in their own home I don’t know.

I cackled as I swallowed the final piece of fruit. Tears gushing from my eyes, mostly from the smell.

The man moved closer towards me, pulling me from the floor from behind. He swivelled me around to face him, his face stern and aggressive.

“You passed the assignation.” He patted me on the back as his scowl turned into a smile.

“Oh you should have seen your face!”

Short Story

About the Creator

Elizabeth Butler

Elizabeth Butler has a masters in Creative Writing University .She has published anthology, Turning the Tide was a collaboration. She has published a short children's story and published a book of poetry through Bookleaf Publishing.

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