The Chocolate Egg

I suddenly awoke at 3:00am on Easter Sunday. My pyjamas and my duvet reeked of sweat, and my throat throbbed and stung, demanding hydration. I knew I had to stand up and open the window, I knew I had to go downstairs for water, but I couldn’t. My brain begged I get up, yet my body remained still. Only my head moved, just to look at the window that needed opening, and the alarm clock proudly displaying the time and date. 3:01am Easter Sunday.

Well, the clock didn’t actually have the phrase “Easter Sunday” on it, but that’s what came to mind when I saw the date. In fact, thinking about Easter was what actually gave me the strength to stand up and open that goddamn window. Today, I thought, today I was going to meet up with Margo, and we would give each other a big chocolate egg, complete with personalised message, and then we’d go out and have dinner. I had made the reservations, I remembered, and just before they were entirely booked too.

So I had something to look forward to that day. In order to enjoy that something, I needed to be well-rested. I couldn’t be well-rested if I was hot and thirsty. I had already opened the window, and let its refreshing breeze waft into my bedroom, so now all I needed to do was get a drink of water.

As I went downstairs, I remembered Easters past, where I woke up almost as early as I did on Christmas morning, and quietly solved the clues the Easter Bunny had left and collected my eggs. I didn’t eat them right away, but saved them until the time I was actually supposed to wake up. I couldn’t remember if it was out of respect for my parents or just so the eggs could be my trophies for a few hours.

There was another chocolate egg. A big, unwrapped chocolate egg sitting on my kitchen counter. It wasn’t the egg I was going to give Margo, nor was it any egg I had bought or had been given. I couldn’t help but stare at it, forgetting my dehydration. I made sure not to touch it and told myself to call the police immediately, yet my inner child couldn’t help but chime in with a “The Easter Bunny’s been!”

Well, no matter what my inner child thought, I walked over to the telephone, but just before I could dial, I heard a thud right behind me. Instinctively I turned around and there was the egg in the hall, now sporting spider legs and sharp teeth.

chocolateegg

I no longer cared that I was dehydrated. I no longer thought about calling the police. All I could think of at that moment was help.

‘Help!’ I screamed. ‘Help!’ I yelled until I was hoarse, in a tiny hope that someone would hear me. Nobody came, but the egg still clattered along the hall. At that point, I leapt towards the front door, pulling at it furiously with futility, for I had temporarily forgotten the concept of “locking”. Just as keys came back into my mind, the egg pounced, digging its legs into my back, making my veins burn.

I tried to scream in pain, but all that came out was a gasp. I fell to the ground, and the egg leapt up into the air, landing on my stomach. It walked towards me, each of its legs clicking as it did so, and looked me over as if deciding which part of me would be the most delicious.

Again its legs dug into my skin. Again my veins seemed to scream.

Then it stood still.

It made not a movement.

I saw my chance and I crushed it.

Now what lay on my stomach were nothing but pieces of chocolate, what you’d expect if you broke a regular hollow Easter egg. No legs or eyeballs or teeth. You’d expect a creature that looked as hungry as it did to have organs, but nothing.

I ate it. I don’t know why I did it, but I ate it.

I had bought an egg and forgotten all about it. That’s what I told myself. I bought myself a chocolate egg and had thought so much about the dinner it had completely slipped my mind. The egg being a monster was all a dream. Dreams always feel real. It’s like when you wake up in the morning, then go back to sleep and then have a dream about getting ready for the day and you think you actually have gotten ready only to suddenly find yourself in bed.

I suddenly awoke at 4:00am on Easter Sunday. I needed to have a shit.

The screaming and monsters and bad dreams forgotten, I made my way to the toilet and plopped myself on my little throne, letting it loose.

I heard cheers.

As soon as I stood up, several little chocolate eggs hopped out of the toilet and ran out of the bathroom.

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