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Erik the Apple: A Story of Love, Betrayal, and Death… Part One

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Valentines Day was last week. Many were happy that the shallow, mildly attractive, edgy teenager they liked accepted them. But many more were roasted to pieces. A “We’re just friends” or “I’m gay” was probably the result of their request to a date. Another thing that happens on most holidays was the exchange of gifts. Some got Skittles, others got roses, and some probably got a turd in a bag. I got nothing, as I am not cool enough for desperate teenagers to crawl all over me asking me to be their Valentine. No gifts for me either.

I did get one thing though, an apple. Gifted to me by Eric Korman clearly as a joke, I accepted it. The apple was browning, likely covered in germs. Not knowing what to do with this gift of mine, I tossed it around in boredom during advisory. At one point, it got exceptionally mushy, and I showed it to a friend. After poking it and then wincing in disgust, he returned it to me.

Still at my desk in advisory, I saw a pen. I used it to engrave a smiling face into the apple, causing some juice to squirt out. I ignored it and showed off this beautiful apple. Then someone else took it from me, along with the pen. He took about five minutes writing something, which I did not know. After five minutes without my sweet summer child, it was finally returned to me. On the back, it said: Happy Valentines Day.

These words were written very sloppy and it took me some time to interpret these hieroglyphics. I then engraved a hole in the front of the apple so that it could urinate. Then English began. I did not need to move as my English and Advisory classes were the same. Some people moved away, but most stayed with me alongside some new-comers. As we began our warm-up, someone asked to poke it. When he did, the apple squirted all over his warmup.

After this, I hid my apple under my desk for the hour. Afterwards, I put it in my backpack and walked upstairs to history. About halfway through the period, the student sitting next to me asked to see this apple I spoke highly of. Note that our table was right next to an open door on the second floor of the E building. I gave him my apple, and he quickly turned. So did I. The apple was rolling of the second floor, and fell to its death in a glorious “pop.” Little did I know, more was coming, in part two.

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