A Not-So-Sweet Saturday

It was nearly noon on a Saturday, and my tummy was having the rumblies. Sure, I could've just dug into the fruits and veggies that I had bought the day before, but my stomach was craving something more mouthwatering. It cried for something to please the craziest of sweet tooths. Oh, how my teeth screamed for something sweet to chomp into!

Fortunately for my body that had often struggled to stay healthy, there was a five-minute walking distance between my apartment and the best bakery in the city. It was a beautiful day for me to get my steps in, as well. With a smile on my face and my hair in the worst messy bun imaginable, I trotted over to the door to grab my shoes.

That's strange. My shoe appeared to shrink as I attempted to shove my surprisingly enormous foot inside of it. The watermelons on my socks seemed to come alive, and the seeds on the melons were wriggling their way off of my feet. I blinked more than usual. I knew that this couldn't be real, but I couldn't help but question my entire existence at this point. After at least five more tries, I finally got my feet into my shoes and out the door.

The bright sunny day was different than how I remembered it from nearly two hours ago. The rays of sunshine were firing arrows at me as I took a single step outside of my apartment complex. A nearby lamppost twisted itself around on the spot, causing me to fall off the curb in distraction. I swore that a car hissed at me rather than honk its horn as I stumbled into the street. I'm pretty sure that I apologized to the driver, but I couldn't recognize my own voice, and the driver looked more like a shady silhouette. Why did I think it was ok to leave my apartment that day?

The five-minute walk to the bakery turned into a ten-minute nightmare with each step I took. The thought of rushing forward terrified me. What if I went too quickly and stumbled back into the streets? It seemed more cautious to take it slow. Pedestrians glared at me with fiery eyes as I took my sweet time down the sidewalk. Even though I was wearing a tank top, my body felt like it was wearing a sweater in the June sunshine. Seriously, would it have killed me to have made a salad? Too late to turn back now. The bakery was two shops away from me, so I had to finish my journey.

The bell over the bakery door chimed like the kind you'd hear from a graveyard church. The titles on the floor shifted, leaving my feet levitating over a pit of everlasting darkness. Even the pastel walls somehow managed to remind me of the fires of Hell. The palest face in the world opened up the reddest lips in existence, but I wasn't sure what they were trying to say.

"I'm sorry?" I said in a voice that wasn't my own. I shuffled closer to the counter.

"I said "welcome in", ma'am," said the softest voice to ever reach my ears. "We have a new Cupcake of the Month called Strawberry Sunrise. It's over there if you're interested."

How I'd managed to understand this angel and not anyone else from that day was a mystery and a miracle. A closer look at her face made me realized that she was far more gentle-looking than she had appeared from a distance. I guessed that I had smiled at her as I thanked her, but I couldn't really feel my face. Feeling too disoriented to make any other decisions, I decided to take the sweet lady's advice and check out the Strawberry Sunrise. Before I reached the display case, I mentally painted a yellow cupcake with pink frosting and a strawberry on the tip top.

The only thing that I got wrong about the cupcake was the fact that it was topped with an eyeball instead of a strawberry. It didn't even have an eyelid, and yet it seemed to blink at me. Instead of a natural color like blue or green, it was red. No, it was borderline pink. I may not have been able to feel my face, but I knew that I showed utter fear.

"Is everything ok?" the angel asked.

"Yes, I'm ok," I lied. "I would like the Strawberry Sunrise."

Unfortunately, I had forgotten my wallet. Fortunately, I had worn my jeans from the night before, and I still had some leftover cash in my pocket from the bar. Fate was truly on the side, given that I had enough to also buy a can of Coke to go with Satan's cupcake-I mean, my Strawberry Sunrise. The angel wished me a happy day as I nearly walked smack into the door.

The eyeball on my cupcake glistened in the sun as I stared directly into its pupil. After a good minute, I gathered up my courage and chomped into the abomination. All of my fear melted away as the familiar taste of strawberry tickled my tastebuds. A smile was felt across my face. What was I so worried about?

The fear returned when I was absolutely terrorized by the barking of a Chihuahua.

And that, dear children, is why you should never indulge in drugs by yourself on a Saturday morning.