My family has always had very strict values, and it shows in the way my parents educated me. When I was a toddler, sugar was a prohibited substance. No sweets, no chocolate, no fun. I was a sad, little kid at every birthday party, steering clear of the cake, the drinks, the candy. The severe gaze of my parents glued on my back.
We didn't eat meat, either. I had been a vegetarian since I was born, eighteen years in a row. This wasn't a particular issue for me, until a couple of months ago. The day the weirdest thing happened to me.
Back then, I was a blooming teenager, full of life and laughter. At least I was when I was outside the house, at school, with my girlfriends. My parents had barred me from interacting with the opposite sex, in fear of what hormones would lead to. And so, I had grown up enclosed on a crystal coffin, watching the world from a safe distance.
One day, when I was leaving the school library, a cute guy approached me. He didn't care about my stuttering of words, or that I dropped all my books on the floor, one of them falling on his left foot. He even helped me to pick them all up. As he dusted them off, he offered to walk me home.
I went the whole way without lifting my eyes off the floor, cheeks blushed, holding my books tight to my chest. I couldn't look at him. But he didn't seem to mind that. He just talked and talked, happily, and laughed at his own jokes. About a block away from the house, I stopped and bluntly told him to leave me there. He approached, lifting my chin with a cold index finger, and looked into my eyes.
"You're such a pretty girl. So shy. I like that. Would you let me take you to a BBQ party tomorrow?". I just stared back, choked on my own absence of words. "Girl, no need to be scared of me, I don't bite. I'll wait for you here at 6, 'kay?" He leaned in a bit more towards me, and his breath infused with mine as he whispered, "don't leave me hanging". With that, he turned around and left.
I walked that last block with my head on the clouds, so dizzy I almost broke my ankle stepping off the curb. I went straight to my bedroom and closed the door. Laying in my bed, I relived every second of the encounter, and I made my choice. I'd go with him. But first, I had to craft a convincing alibi for my parents, and so I put every cell of my brain to the task.
The next afternoon, while getting dressed, I was feeling a bit worried. How did I manage to agree to come to a BBQ party? All that meat around and I wasn't going to be able to take a bite, not even a tiny one. What was I going to eat? Shaking my head, I tried to dismiss my concerns. I put on my prettiest summer dress, the blue one with the little white flowers. Then, I applied a dash of color to the lips, arranged my hair to fall on my shoulders, and tiptoed my way out of the house.
I can barely remember how we got to the party, now that I try to recall the events of that day. The next thing I know, we were at the cute guy's house, by the pool, surrounded by people. It was a chilly day, and sunlight was already scarce. The food smelled amazing. Cute guy was doing a pretty good job at keeping me warm, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
For a couple of hours, everything was laughter and drinks back and forth. Eventually, all the subgroups of guests started minding their own business. We, the cute guy and me, went to the farthest area of the backyard and sat on a beautiful wooden bench. For a few minutes, we remained silent as we watched the first fireflies perform their dance. Cute guy's left arm was comfortably placed around my shoulders. We were so close I could sense his fragrance tickling my nose.
That day is special to me for many reasons. I transgressed every rule. I was free. That evening, I received my first kiss, and I also ate meat for the first time in my life. I still remember the opening bite. My mouth waters at the mere thought of it. Between my teeth, the chunk of meat felt just right. Using my incisors and canines, I ripped and tore it apart in pieces, the right size to get the better taste out of it. I savored with my eyes closed, following a primal instinct.
I can't say I'm sorry for what I did to the poor guy. I have to admit that I sometimes run my tongue over these cold, metal bars, hoping to catch a glimpse of his relish.
The inspiration for this story was a very short freewriting exercise I did years ago. I revisited it and gave it a whole turn, without compromising the original idea.
I'd like to thank you for reading this. I hope my words resonated with you in some way. This story is entirely fictional, yet I acknowledge that there's often a blurry, trembling line between fiction and reality. After all, what can be more chimerical than the reality we live in?
Source of the image:
📷 by Skitterphoto
