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You Are What You Eat

by Blair Hamilton 8 months ago in Horror · updated 7 months ago
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age 14+, mature content, depression, language

It's Halloween night. Darleen was sitting moodily on the couch. Mascara smeared down her cheeks, a glass of red wine in one hand, a gigantic bag of candy from the nearest big box store in her lap. Surrounded by candy wrappers. Some cheesy black and white Halloween movie on TV, with the sound low. Kids have been ringing the doorbell all night but she has been ignoring them all night. She wasn't in the mood to deal with some other people's children, and besides, she just had a horrible break-up with her husband of 14 years. She deserves a night of self pity. That chocolate is hers. She got so sick of hearing the knocking and the ringing, she got up and turned all the lights off in the house and dragged all the decorations in off the front porch.

"Fuck 'em". She said out loud. She sat on that couch for hours. Maybe 3. Drinking two bottles of wine, and consuming the entire 320 piece bag of chocolate candies. Every. Piece. Sobbing she choked. "I hate that man. I wasted so much time on that bag of dog shit. Fuck him. FUCK HIM" she screamed at the top of her lungs, followed by an ear piecing scream of frustration and anguish. She collapsed, a blob, sobbing and curling into herself. After a while, she sat up on the couch hiccoughing and sniffling.

She refilled her glass, and carried it into the bathroom where she leaned over, plugged the tub and turned the hot water on. She went to the dryer and grabbed a towel, as she was standing back up, she gouged her shoulder, a deep scratch on the corner of the shelf with the laundry soap on it. She screamed and slapped her hand over it where blood began oozing between her fingers. But...wait. She slowly came to the realization of what it was as she screamed.

That.....that's not blood. She dropped her wine glass where it shattered into a thousand shards on the tile floor. She backed up and stumbled into the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, closer at her wound. Blood, no, whatever it is, weeping from the wound. Thick and brown, like..."No, it couldn't be..." She wiped her finger over the wound which was throbbing and brought it to her nose. "Chocolate, I'm bleeding chocolate. I am never drinking again after tonight". She brought her finger closer to her mouth where she tentatively poked her tongue at it. "It really is chocolate, and's delicious".

She sat down in the bath where she began to dig at the wound. She wanted the chocolate. She had thought it was gone, when she threw the last chocolate wrapper on the ground, but is delighted at the prospect of more. She kept digging and soon was ripping off pieces of her flesh, devouring more and more of it. She was also bleeding heavily into the bathwater. The bathwater was as dark as hot cocoa and she began to drink that too. Ripping off pieces of flesh with one hand and taking almighty slurps of the hot chocolate bath water between bites.

The next morning, her husband arrived home with a large bouquet of flowers, armed with an apology for his pig headedness. He should have been less selfish. He should have been more aware of her heart ache and distress after she lost their 3rd child to a miscarriage. Then when she started gaining weight and he lost interest in her so they stopped having sex, he should have been less selfish then too. Last Christmas when she asked him for sex, he told her that he was no longer attracted to her physically due to her weight gain but 'still loved her'.

She started weight loss programs, and joined a gym and got new earbuds so she had a motivation to walk every day. When she took her measurements, and got excited that she had lost an inch he told her "come to me when you lose 10 pounds, that is something to get really excited about. You are pathetic getting excited over an inch. Jesus Christ. Have you even LOST any weight yet or just "inches", he sneered at her. She started crying then.

He slept in their bed alone that night. She spent the night on the couch, restless, crying every so often, every time she thought about something happy from their relationship, which was always followed up his voice echoing in her head telling her she was worthless and that he's unable to get hard around her anymore. "My hot new assistant"....bouncing around her brain also.

The next day, when he got home he saw her gym key badge in the trash on top of the protein bars she had bought at her last trip to the store. Instead of the bowl of oranges and apples she had sitting on the counter, a bowl of Halloween candy instead. He went upstairs where his wife was reading a book in the bathtub with a few pieces of candy on the bathroom floor next to her. "See, I knew you'd give up trying to lose weight. You could be eating salad and vegetables like my hot new assistant at work, instead you are sitting here eating chocolate." He walked out of the room untying his tie.

Her heard a mighty splashing followed by Darleen's scream. "GET OUT". "GET THE FUCK OUT!", she snarled. "Darleen, god I was just joking, learn how to take a joke, stop being such a bitch, what are you on your period?", he smirked. Darleen grew even more angry then and screamed "GET THE FUCK OUT TODD. I MEAN IT. GET OUT. I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR UGLY FACE HERE. LEAVE!! NOW!!".

She grabbed a bag from the closet, shoved some clothes from each drawer into it, grabbed his running shoes from the closet and shoved those into also, stormed back into the bathroom and grabbed his shaving and hygiene supplies, shoved those into the bag and then shoved the bag into his arms. She pulled him behind her down the stairs and when they made it to the front door, where she grabbed his keys and shoved those and him out the front door. "Your brother Darrell can come get your shit, I am done with you. Get out. Get out and stay out. Stay away from me. Leave".

He stood there his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The words he mouthed were lost to the air. "Too late Todd. Leave". She walked around the side of his car, opened the driver side door and motioned for him to get in. He did. He stumbled into the car, she slammed the door, she saw him put the stuff on his passenger seat, and put the key in the ignition. She kicked the side of his car and screamed "Oh my fucking god Todd, just leave already!". She kicked it again, and he drove off.

She went back inside, locked the door. That was the last time he saw her. He was unable to explain to police where she was, what happened. But they weren't able to get him for homicide or even domestic assault because all they found in their investigation, was an extremely large amount of chocolate, melted chocolate candies, all types in the bath tub, chocolate stains and smears, hand prints, all over the walls leading the the bathroom. Chocolate in the sink, on the mirror. But nothing else, no other signs. No letters, no blood, no murder weapon, no financial records making authorities believe she left, or that he committed some great crime that he covered up, checked phone records, emails, internet search history. To no avail. To this day, she has never been seen or heard from again.


About the author

Blair Hamilton

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