Apples

Bring me an apple he commanded the slave girl. She glanced at him in bed before she walked out of the room, he was laying in a bed covered with white sheets while wearing a white robe. It was fitting foreshadowing. She walked to the kitchenette, the lights got more intense, and her thoughts flooded with things like "pick the right apple, you can't pick an apple, you are about to get in trouble, do you see the bathroom, remember the last words he said because who knows in how many days until you hear his voice" and she pushed those thoughts away...telling herself like so many other times that she needs to be positive. How can picking a fruit end so poorly? Re-focusing on fetching an apple, she picked the most red one and washed it. Bringing it back to him with a smile and an air of hope. Then his face dropped and she knew. He spit out the apple and told her it was garbage. All she had to do was get some apples and she wasted more of his money. The disgusting red apple mocked her with it's shine against his white robe. The girl brought him another apple and although passable enough to take a bite of, he eventually proclaimed he wouldn't eat it. The slave was reminded by him of how little he's found apples he liked and she brought him terrible ones from the same store as the good ones.

Eventually and unsurprisingly everyone else moved on. She wished he would just beat her, choke her, kill her...something to allow her move on from the pain of ruining his apples. It's terribly numbing to always feel like your Master hates you. It's a terrible thing to be a bad apple.

2 Responses to “Apples”

  1. That last line made me lol

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