The Treacherous Journey | Teen Ink

The Treacherous Journey

March 4, 2009
By Amy H. SILVER, Lubbock, Texas
Amy H. SILVER, Lubbock, Texas
6 articles 29 photos 10 comments

It was a normal trip to United Grocery store. My mom forgot to grab a carton of eggs and asked me to run in and get a dozen for her. I agreed. What harm could eggs do? I was perusing the aisles, taking my time. I wasn't doing anything out of the normal, except avoiding the produce section. Produce? You ask, yes produce. Just the thought of the word sends chills down me spine. Some say my fear is nonsense, but have you seen the blood red apples, the sharp points of a pineapple, or even been chased through the store by the sample lady demanding that you try a chocolate covered strawberry? I think not. To most people, these may seem to be simply nutritious snacks but honestly, they are death on a stem.

I was almost to the register when I received a text message. I slid my phone open anxious for the news on my screen. I couldn't breathe, my knees were shaking, and my eyes were tearing. My mother, the dear woman who has taken care of me from birth, and knows like the back of her hand, asked me to grab a few BANANAS! Suddenly, the store was empty; all I could see was yellow. Somewhere in the background, a monkey was laughing. My feet felt like cinder blocks; I was trapped. I ran to the toothpaste aisle, I was safe, or so I thought. I paced down the row, thinking of a plan. AHA! I'll take the dairy pathway out of the store.

I was no longer hyperventilating, and my tears were dry. Calmly as I could, I began my exit out of the labyrinth. Almost there, I kept telling myself. I was in the middle of the ice cream freezers when I looked down. Right where my foot was about to step was a BANANA SPLIT! If that wasn't frightening enough, sitting dangerously atop the whip cream mountain was a lethal maraschino cherry. I slowly and steadily backed away. The rank scent of the sickly sweet treat was overpowering. I leapt over the disgusting dessert and bolted for the door.

Sunlight ht my wary eyes and I was ecstatic, for I had survived the death trap called United. The next day in English class I turned in my essay on fear. Little did I know, my teacher was terrified of fruit.



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