Prompt: Food876Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw3R44CyNJY
Song: Dummy March by momocashew ft. OLIVER and Kagamine Len
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He remembered the first time he had made a big mistake.
He was alone once in his home- his mother had taken his older brother somewhere, to do something which he couldn’t quite remember at the moment. His father, who was to be looking after him, was out with a friend of his. Reflecting on the past, he realized that that friend, a school girl from the school his father taught at, was so much more than his friend.
He was hungry, he remembered, and wanted to eat something. He perused the cupboards, the fridge, and even the heap of chocolate and candies his mother had hidden under her bed, but nothing caught his interest.
Going to the pantry a second time in somewhat of a way to ward off boredom, his eye caught on a rolled-up bag of flour. He remembered that his mother had bought and used that bag of flour just a week before, to make a cake with. While thinking about it, he felt himself hunger for cake.
He tried to remember how his mother had done it, and grabbed the ingredients according to what he saw in his memory.
Flour, eggs, milk and sugar were put on the table. He paused to think- what came next? He hoped that he could remember.
It took him a while, but he eventually remembered and tried the process, and had the cake in the oven. He was quite proud of himself, feeling like he’d done the whole thing well.
While he gazed at the cake rising in the oven, basking in the moment of self-fulfillment, he heard a voice that sent shivers shooting down his spine and his skin stand on edge.
“What are you doing.” The voice pierced through him like a million knives, but instead of blood seeping out of wounds, fear oozed from them.
He turned to face his father, standing above him. Their eyes met, and he felt like the man above him was seeing into his soul, eyes leeching his pride and replacing it with toxic anxieties.
He tried to answer, his voice catching in his throat. What was he going to say? How could he explain anything to those disappointed eyes. He opened his mouth once again, but his father beat him to it. “Well? Are you going to tell me why the kitchen is in shambles?”
“I- I was baking… Baking a cake, like Mom does...” He mumbled. The look of disappointment in his eyes deepened.
“Throw whatever you’re cooking in the trash and clean this mess up,” He hissed, disappointment morphing into disgust for a second before he took his leave from the kitchen.
It felt like the weight of the world had crashed down upon him at that. As he cleaned he thought about when his mother cooked for them all. She always made delicious food, whether it be a simple stew or some pastry from another country which he couldn’t pronounce the name of.
Instead of being scolded like he was just then, she’d be congratulated just for the effort she’d put in. Instead of being met with eyes of disgust and told to get rid of the creation, she’d be given praise about how wonderful the food was.
As he cleaned, his quiet sobbing turned into loathful, ugly tears devoid of sound. Why? Why? Why? He repeated over and over in his mind, Why did it turn out like this? All he wanted was to make a cake, just like his mother.
By the time his mother had arrived home, he had already cleaned the kitchen thoroughly and the cake, which ended up burning, was in the bin. His father had once again taken off with his student, and his mother did no even know he’d been home that day.
He didn’t eat dinner that night, saying he was full from lunch earlier that day. From then on, he never cooked again, and whenever he ate his mother’s food, it was always imperfect and bitter.
ns216.73.216.176da2
