The young girl was beyond relieved when she was greeted at the front door by her mother. There was no search, and no questions. She had not planned for questions, and presumably she would have buckled under the pressure straight away. Sarah knew full well that she would never be able to lie to her mother, and the truth about the chocolate would have quickly unraveled itself.
That night, the relief turned to doubt as Sarah batted away another idea that had begun to formulate in her fevered brain: that maybe it would have been better if her mother had asked questions, the truth came out, and the pretence was over before it began. Slightly haunted by those thoughts, she struggled to sleep.
The young girl did not feel like herself the next few days. The nervous tension and paranoia mounted - concerning both the ethics of the issue and the simple question of whether she would be caught or not. Part of her brain told her ‘it was only a piece of chocolate’, but another part of her brain said ‘a lie is a lie, the truth must come out’. Part of her brain said ‘she’ll never find out’, but another part of her brain said ‘what if?’
The madness induced by the incessant questioning fired at Sarah from all parts of her brain was beginning to take hold of the little girl. Scenarios were played out in her head, she a not so willing audience to a horrific show her guilt-edged mind had laid on for her. She had visions of her mother shouting at her and denouncing her. She watched the horrible show unfold and unfold again within her own head, unable to turn away. The passing planes with their explosive payload meant nothing to Sarah at this point - the surely ballistic retribution dealt through her mother was a much more terrifying prospect than any poxy plane.
Truly sending the little girl into realms of fear since unknown, Sarah then began to see visions of her mother uttering words that she had never uttered before, as if some higher power was trying to impart a message.
‘It was just a transaction, made for your personal gain!’
‘By accepting the gift, you corrupted your kind offer!’
Sarah reasoned that by not heeding her mother’s warnings her brain felt some extra tuition was in order. Wearied by these intensifying paranoid thoughts, delusions, and visions she desperately sought solace. Luckily, she knew where to find it.
In a remarkable display of rational thought, considering her recent predicament, Sarah decided that eating the chocolate would help. The deed had already been done, and she was being duly punished, so eating the chocolate would just provide a short sweet lapse from all the stress and tension that had begun to consume her. That was the point of choosing the chocolate in the first place. The cruel irony was not lost on the young girl.
Making sure she was alone one morning, Sarah gingerly made her way to the end of the back yard where the old flowerpot stood. Warplanes passed over once again but she did not flinch, determined to find her prize. She worked quickly, knowing the niggling doubts would quickly consume her if she for a moment hesitated. Frantically digging away at the soil with her bare hands, the bounty was soon unearthed.
The wrapper, once so crisp and clean, was torn to shreds. Holding the bar in her hands for a second, Sarah was disgusted by the sight and feel of the thing - the chocolate was half black, teeming with ants. Worms writhed in between her fingers. Barely a moment after she first laid eyes upon it, she threw away the remains in disgust, burying the bar as quickly as she had unearthed it.
The guilt had reduced Sarah to a quivering wreck by this point, but closure was gained with the discovery of the ruined chocolate. She would move on, lesson finally learnt. Sarah knew it was the end of the matter once and for all.
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Thanks for reading! If you have time, please write a review! Otherwise, please wait patiently for my next publication. . .
Cheers, David.
About David Bond
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Other books by David Bond
Life and Death on the Tracks: Second prize in Darker Times Fiction Competition
The Sim Diary: Honorary mention in Five Stop Story Fiction Competition
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