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

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.