Death By Chocolate

Craig ripped the cellophane off the box of assorted chocolates the Maggie had given him after their first date.  He showed the front of the box in front to her picture on his desk.  “You never really listened to me, even about the important stuff,” he said.  “Proof in point giving me this.  I told you how bad it was,  and yet you just tilted your head and told me to just give it to someone else.  Like I could do that since it was from you.”

Craig pulled off the cover and chucked it, and the map to the boxes’ contents, to the floor.   He took a piece of chocolate at random and shoved it into his face.  “Not that one,” he said while he chewed.  He grabbed a second one and popped it in before he had finished the first.  “Not that one either.”

Chocolate drool trickled down from the left corner of his mouth to his chin, but Craig didn’t care.  He picked up the picture and brought it and the chocolates over to his bed.  The chocolates spilled out as he flopped himself onto his stomach, the picture just inches from his head.   He reached for another chocolate and added it to the two he hadn’t finished yet.  “Damn, I hate strawberry.”  He spit out the whole wad of melted and masticated chocolate onto Maggie’s picture.  “Take that, bitch.”  He grabbed another chocolate and tore into it.  “Carmel is for losers.”  He threw the half he held in his hand onto the floor.

“Of course that’s what you think of me now,” Craig said.  He wiped away the chocolate waste from Maggie’s picture leaving a brown streak across her angelic blond framed face.  “That’s why you ditched me for Kevin Peterson, that jerk.”  He grabbed two chocolates, shoved them into his mouth, and bit down on them both.  “Come on!” he mumbled spitting chocolate shrapnel in front of him, “Why can’t I find one?”

He spit out the two chocolates on the floor and grabbed the closest six nearby.  He stuck each into his mouth, one by one, and then began the process of chewing.  A sad, sickly smile began to grow on his face.  He finally swallowed his mouthful of chocolate and sighed.

Craig reached over the bed and picked up his backpack.   He opened it and pulled out his epi pen.  “How will you feel knowing you killed me?” he yelled at the picture.  He then threw the epi pen across the room where is smashed into the wall.

Craig could feel his windpipe begin to close.  He laid back on the bed, placing Maggie’s picture on his chest and he held it tight.

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