chocolate mousse

My pain has everthing to do with a cake. It starts and ends with a cake. It's as simple as that. I know this, and yet...

I stare at the cake. It's chocolate mousse. I actually hate that flavor because it's my sister's favorite. Whatever the occasion, the cake's sure to be chocolate mousse cake because of her. And i hate it.

I hate it with all my being.

That cake reminds me too much of myself.

..and yet i find myself walking towards the cake and buying it.

Before i could understand what was going on, i was already paying for it - my body acting on its own accord.

Hmm.. This is weird.

But i just shrug it off. I do such weird things sometimes. I guess I just can't help it.

With a sigh, I leave the bakeshop and go home. The very moment I arrive, I set the cake on the table, remove it from its box, and get myself a plate, a fork, and a knife.

I tell myself I'll eat just a single slice and then put the rest away for my sisters. After all, I hate this cake, but i can't just let others have for themselves what i originally bought for myself, right? It's rightfully mine, so I should at least take a slice.

Yes, that's it. Just one slice. One tiny slice of this disgusting cake.

...a slice of a cake as disgusting as myself.

Hesitantly, i cut a really thin piece of the brown and white contraption and set it on my plate. Glaring at it, i stab it with my fork and scoop a part of it into my mouth.

If only i could cut through myself as easily as i cut through this cake. Or if only i could stab myself with a fork as well...

As it melts on my tongue, I must admit that it's not too sweet. It's just right. But i still hate it. I still hate everything about the cake. I decide to just finish what little amount is left on my plate and then put away the rest in the refrigerator.

I am done with my slice in just a few seconds. It's really a totally disgusting cake and I scowl at the crumbs and remaining cream on my plate. Without thinking about it though, I bring the plate to my mouth and lick it clean.

I'm disgusting, aren't I? as disgusting as the cake... no, perhaps even more disgusting than it.

Frightened, I stare at the clean plate in front of me.

Did I really do that? Did I really do what I just did?

For a short moment, the idea of smashing the plate on the wall crossed my mind. Yet, I don't act upon that sudden urge. Instead, I walk to the sink.

Yes, that's it. I should put the plate away and stop eating. That was enough. The cake's too disgusting to eat more of it.

But as I am standing in front of the sink, I find that I can't put the plate into it. I feel light-headed as I turn around and reach for the knife. With a painful feeling in my chest, I cut myself another really thin slice of the cake and put it on my plate.

What am I doing?

In a few seconds, I finish the slice and automatically get another.

I tell myself it's okay. I won't get fat. It's just small slices. Just small slices. After a few more, i'm going to put it back.

What am i doing?

Yet the few slices never seem to stop appearing on my plate. One after another, I cut them, put them on my plate, and eat them. I begin to feel really scared. After a while, I notice tears streaming down my cheeks.

What am i doing?

I can feel myself dying with every slice I eat... I'm slowly killing a small part of me with each slice... Yet, I can't stop killing myself.

Why can't I stop? Why can't I stop eating the cake? I should stop. I should. I really should. Please let me stop.

My tears start reaching the side of my mouth and make the cake a bit salty. I can feel my heart pounding up to my throat, making it harder to swallow. Yet, that doesn't slow down my eating. In fact, I start eating faster.

The cake is now half-finished. And i take note of this as I throw away the fork in some random direction and use my fingers to eat. I scoop up a bit of cake and then force it into my mouth, licking my fingers clean afterwards.

My chest feels constricted. My stomach feels heavy. I'm dizzy and everything I see looks a blur but the cake. I think I'm about to puke any moment.

I have to stop. I have to vomit. Oh please make me vomit... I feel really sick... Maybe I could save what's left of me - the part I haven't totally killed yet. Please help me... Please...

But I can't stop eating. I just can't stop eating. I can't stop crying, either. At this point, I'm already wailing and sobbing for all I'm worth. But i still can't stop shoving more cake into me. There's this drive to cause myself more pain...

...this drive to kill myself even further.

And I stop. I suddenly stop. I understand only seconds later why:

There's only one more piece left.

One last piece of the disgusting cake.

I can't eat that... I can't. If I do, I will... I will...

...I will die.

I can hear my heartbeat accelerating. It's almost over. I can feel it. I try my best to stop it from happening. But I can't. I'm too weak. Just too weak.

Stop me. Please... I beg you...

With terror, I watch through my tears how my arm reaches out towards the last piece of cake. With a trembling hand, I bring that last piece to my mouth and eat it.

It's over. It's all over. Right here and now, my world has ended.

...No more disgusting cake. No more disgusting me.

And yet, I feel my body inhale and exhale. I feel my heart continuing to beat. I feel my blood flowing through me. I feel the heat of the summer. My body feels normal.

I wait for a few minutes, sitting still. I cease to think. I cease to move. I know I have so many things to attend to. But there's no need to rush anymore. There's no need to do anything at all. After all, I have no more future to look forward to. It's all over, right? It's all over...

With a small sigh, I pick up the forgotten plate from the table and let it drop onto the floor. It breaks into many little pieces and some cut into my leg. But I don't mind the pain. I'm not even sure if I can feel the pain at all – or if I'm just imagining it.

Slowly, I collect some of the broken pieces like I have all the time in the world – which I probably really do have.

Am I really still alive?

I listen to my now calming heartbeat and I smile faintly.

Yes, there's no doubt about it. I really am dead, after all...

With a final smile, I take one of the broken pieces and shove it into my mouth, trying my best to chew it and swallow. And I do this with all the other shards, too.

-murasaki09