The Fear and Love of Chocolate

I stare at it, my eyes glazed in a trance, mouth watering at the anticipation of the first bite, thoughts swirling over the phantasmal taste and alluring aroma filling my nostrils. What lies before me is one singular slice of chocolate cake smothered with chocolate icing which gleaming with a dark radiance that permeates my skin. I lean in closer to my dining table, inching my chair ever closer, finally in reach of my great prize, and then...i stop. Then it hits me, a strange pressure in my chest like there is a hand strangling my heart and the tightening

of my muscles spreading throughout my body. The hairs on my body stand up, my breathing gets ragged and uneven, and my palms sweat profusely. This feeling I know all too well; fear. Yes it's the fear of the sickness, the pain, the probably death that i might receive all from this simple slice of cake.

I remember it well, as a child, when I had my first taste of chocolate; oh how delightful it was. Rich, creamy, moist, and sweet are what i remember and i hold onto that memory tightly

for that is when i discovered i was allergic to chocolate. I remember the sweet sensation turning into pain then panic as my body reacted violently to this new substance. My tongue swelled, my throat contracted, hives began to appear and my body was burning up. The pain was excruciating and I begged in the deepest parts of my soul for it to stop and then I passed out. My parents rushed me to the hospital to get me emergency care and I woke up a day later. The doctor explained that I have an extremely severe chocolate allergy and I was lucky to be alive. I was thankful to escape that unbearable experience, yet I still thought of it….its sweet embrace.

I was instructed by the doctor, and my parents, to be careful of certain types of food in my meals with the emphasis on chocolate or I could potentially die within thirty minutes. As an adult, I tried my best to cope. Day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year I did as I was told and protected my health, however with great difficulty. Everywhere I went I saw chocolate, from cookies to brownies, pies, ice cream, and of course cake. What made it harder was watching other people enjoy themselves. Their smiles and looks of ecstasy as they chew and smack their lips in such delight while I watch with envy. I torture myself at the bakery, as I fill my nostrils with that sweet aroma to bring back those memories from my childhood; but it was not enough. At one point in time I had asked someone to describe the taste to me, but alas they would not whilst giving me looks of bewilderment. My obsession led to my friends and family intervening, for they were worried that I would do something dangerous. I told them that I would never do such a thing, that it was just a coping mechanism; and at the time I truly believed that. Then it happened.

It was my thirtieth birthday. I would normally celebrate by going out to my favorite bakery to bask my senses into my forbidden delicacy before going home empty handed like every other year, but my friends and family ruined that. After the intervention, every bakery was notified of my condition which made it difficult to feel welcome there with my intent. I walked down the usual street, hoping just to smell something outside the usual shop, and I noticed a new gourmet cake shop. “How long has this been here? When was this built?” I muttered to myself. These are streets that I am familiar with, yet this one store is a complete mystery to me. This bakery had a strange look to it. It seemed vintage yet modern with brick and dark color tones that gives off a sinister/welcoming feeling. A sudden wave of curiosity came over me and I entered the shop with a haste that made me feel like a man possessed. The store was empty; I could only see the front counter and no cakes or pastries in sight in this dimly lit room. A sense of unease crept over me and I felt like leaving, so I turned around and then I heard a voice, “May I help you?”. I slowly turned around and barely made out a shadowy figure that became more visible as it approached the counter. It was a young woman in a type of gothic maid outfit with dark black hair and pale skin. As I approached the counter, begrudgingly, I noticed that her eyes were closed yet she was following my every movement. I stared at her confused and said, “I’m looking to buy a….cake”, I had no intentions to utter the words that escaped my mouth. I only intended to browse and enjoy the scents. I instinctively hold my mouth to prevent myself from speaking. She smiles wryly at me and pulls out a box that she reveals to be a visually perfect piece of chocolate cake. I had seen many cakes, but this one in front of me made my mouth water just from looking. From the bread to the icing, even the way in which the cake was cut put me in awe. Then the smell hit me and it was euphoric. The scent was definitely chocolate cake, yet something indescribable at the same time and I could only imagine that I look like a madman who is going through withdrawals. I lean down, grab the box slowly and then stop….i look up at the maid and her eyes are open. Her irises are violet and there is an unusual glow from them. She smiles widely and says with a soft sweet voice, “Happy Birthday dear patron”.

I rushed back home, making sure no one saw me with my decadent contraband and locked the door. I placed the cake on the dining room table, sat down, and just looked at it. I stared at my dessert and placed my hands on my face. ‘What am I doing? Is my life really worth a single piece of cake?’, I think to myself. I open the box and the aroma of the cake fills the air and my mind wavers as if it has become hypnotized. I close the box quickly and my mind races to all possibilities of managing to eat the entire slice of cake while also surviving this situation. The main issue is that I want to finish the entire cake before receiving help, but will I even be able to finish it before succumbing to anaphylactic shock? My condition is too severe for even an EPI pen to save me from an entire slice of chocolate and the nearest hospital is roughly thirty minutes away. One misstep will be fatal for me, but something compels me to go through with it as if someone else is deciding for me. ‘I wonder if this is right? Why risk it? I have a whole life ahead of me’, my thoughts race back and forth until my mind goes quiet and a singular memory comes back to me. That moment as a child enjoying his first piece of chocolate cake, and that child now a man forbidden from living in ecstasy and bound by his fear of death. The memories come crashing in so quick and vivid as if living through it again and strangely those violet eyes of that maid piercing the very depths of my soul like a demon persuading me to give into my temptation or maybe more like a manifestation of my true desires. After all she did not even charge me for that cake and knew my birthday despite us not knowing each other. I stop that mode of thought on how ridiculous that sounds and chuckle to myself and think ‘maybe i did go mad?’. I look over at the cake and realize that there will be a time where I will forget the taste and I will be left with an empty void in my heart. I will eat it.

I stand up and pick up the phone and dial 911 and alert them of my intent and address then hang up quickly. I rush to the dining table, pick up my utensil, and stop. I ask myself one final time ‘Is this really worth your life?’, and in that moment i realized that without my love of chocolate i have no life and i take the first bite. The rich chocolatey flavors dance along my taste buds as my senses overload from the heavenly taste. Drool drips from my mouth and my eyes water from this sensation. I take the second bite and a smile beams from my face as I enter in a state of true happiness, and then I feel an itch. I feel the hives forming on my body, my temperature rising, and my body sweating. I had to forgo savoring every bite as soon my throat would close and then I would not be able to finish. I began to pick up the pace while feeling a slight tickle in my esophagus, the end was near. Three more bites left; I try to ignore the pain and continue eating, trying to focus on the sweetness entering my lips, imagining the chocolate was numbing the pain instead of causing it. Two bites left; my throat is starting to close up, but I am almost finished. My triumph is close at hand yet my vision starts to fade. My mind starts to wander and lose focus for a second ‘Will EMS arrive in time? Will this be another memory filled with pain and pleasure or my final moments?’. The last bite; I stuff the last bit of cake in my mouth and collapse to the floor. I cannot breathe and am unsure of whether or not the cake is in my stomach or in my throat. I still feel the icing and cake on my lips, however my tongue is too swollen and numb to lick them up. I succeeded, but now my thoughts transition to survival. My consciousness begins to fade and the fear creeps in of my impending death. I try to convince myself of being proud of “Going out on my terms”, or something like that yet all i feel is despair. Then I hear it in the distance; the ambulance siren is wailing.Through my pain, I felt relieved at the thought of living through this and then my heart sank. My eyes, going in and out, make out a figure in the dark with a sinister smile and glowing…violet…eyes...