A Solitary Massacre (The Pie)

A Solitary Massacre (The Pie)

         I was put together in a bowl, stirred, parts of me melted, parts of me cut away, parts ripped, and parts forgotten. I was made to be indistinct through stirring, held in a pathetic half-liquid, half-solid state in a single, uniforming bowl. You made me one among millions, whereas I had once been one in a million, unique in my particles.

            With the guise of making me something different, something better, something you wanted, you took me and poured me into that thin, non-protecting metal tin, and you slid me into the oven.

            I warmed, I cooked, I broiled, and I screamed out, but you didn’t hear me through the thick metal doors that your protected, mitt-covered hand had shut. Without a regard for my feelings, those of the forced masochist, the sadist, you, let me out only when I was crispy enough for your liking.

            I let out tears of relief, joy, fear. Would you put me in there again? But you set me out on the counter, and let me be. My tears shifted to ones of happiness, for though you hurt me, maybe you had made me better. I was no longer the lukewarm, half-solid blob I had previously been. I was solid now, thick, warm; I could now be loveable, instead of pitiful.

            But I guess that wasn’t enough for you, because you drowned me then in syrupy, suffocating red liquid that was appropriately reminiscent of blood. You let me sit there and gasp for breath while you smiled down on me, indifferent. Like an abused child, I slowly became used to the sensation.

            I cleared my mind, I calmed myself. I thought it was over.  I was fairly sure that I looked beautiful, like a showgirl in a new red dress. I smiled for the first time since the oven. And in the middle of that smile, you pulled out a knife, cut me into pieces, and served me to your guests.

Author's Note

Written from the point of view of a pie:)

Reviews

[SilentDreamer]

I see now that you're an interesting type of writer, one who comes up with creative ideas that others wouldn't think of- and that's a very good thing. Although a pie is something very odd to read about :) It did make me laugh. There was one grammatical error though where you said "Like an abused child, I slowly becaused used to the sensation." I think you meant became, right? :D But yeah this was very interesting to read. Great job, keep writing!