Bruna Ngassa

Someone in the Kitchen

An accelerated heart rate catalyzed by a raging insatiability. Clammy hands. The growl

from her stomach sounded like the low rumble of an animal locked in a cage. The deliciously

familiar but brutal telltale signs of her current physical state.

Autumn was curled up in her bed, soaked in the sunlight that traveled through the slats in

her blinds. Light rain poured from outside, the pitter-patter echoing the drum of her heartbeat.

Her body felt weak and tired. Her hazel eyes were clouded over like a sandstorm. Her mind was

void of all thoughts except for one.

Though it had only been a few weeks since she started feeling sick, she felt like she

couldn’t remember life before it. It was a constant swing of the pendulum, from feeling good and

in control to feeling like someone had taken over and seeped her mind with poison. She slowly

sat up, goosebumps covering her body. The smell of maple syrup and sugar was no longer

present in the air as it once was on Friday mornings. Her mother’s disappointment was evident in

the beginning and now she spent the mornings going out for coffee and attending her weekend

book club. This weekend her mother had gone on a girl’s trip and wouldn’t be back until late

tomorrow. Autumn initially felt guilty about the shift in their relationship, but now she thought

that there was no possibility of ever going back.

The low grumbling from her body rang louder in her ears with every second that passed.

She dragged herself out of bed and started to fold her blankets and rearrange her pillows. As she
tidied up her space, she kicked a few empty wrappers that surrounded the floor under the bed.

With a shaky breath, she made her way downstairs.

The lights were still on from yesterday. The cabinets were all open and nearly empty. The

trash was full of unopened boxes of snacks, food, and drinks that were doused in various

condiments and cleaning fluids. Yesterday had been a foggy blur of events, but she knew that her

sickness had taken its toll on her that day. Now she felt weak and burnt out and--most of all--

ravenous. The longer she stayed conscious the worse it became. Standing in the kitchen now she

could feel her palms start to sweat and her body starting to buzz with anxiety. She made a b-line

straight for the fridge but there was nothing other than maple syrup, celery, and some of her

mother’s healthy diet foods. If her mom came home to see the trash can filled with uneaten junk

food, she’d yell at her for an hour. She often criticized every little thing she did, and Autumn

desperately wanted to avoid the repercussions of her actions. She needed to get out of the

kitchen. She felt the walls start to close in on her, the bright yellow irritating her eyes as if she

had been staring straight into the sun.

In a haste, she grabbed her keys, left the house, and started up her car engine. She knew

where she had to go. It was perfect timing too; the store had just opened up again a couple of

days ago. She hadn’t been there since before everything went down. Ten minutes later she

arrived at the front of “Sammy’s Donuts.” Big balloons flew around at the front and a giant

‘Now Open’ sign covered the front entrance. It was still pretty early in the morning so not many

people were around. Autumn felt disappointed; she hoped it would be busy and crowded. Then

she probably would’ve turned back and she could’ve avoided the inevitable.
 She stepped out of the car and walked into the shop. A bell rang as she entered, and she

was instantly hit with the sugary aroma of glazed donuts and desserts. Cases were filled with

rainbow and pastel-colored treats. There were strawberry crullers, vegan blueberry cake donuts,

lemon-lime with sprinkles, and plain chocolate. She could taste them on the tip of her tongue.

Heart pounding, she glanced around for anyone at the counter, but there was nobody there.

“Hello?” She called out. She started to grow antsy, digging her nails into her palms.

“Sorry, give me one sec,” a voice called out.

Autumn waited, planning out which donuts she would get. Her bank account was running

low, but she had grabbed a ten from her mother’s bag last week and kept it in her car until now.

“Sorry, we’re pretty under-staffed right now and I just started--”

The voice paused. Autumn met eyes with a familiar face. Seaglass-colored eyes and dark

hair. Crooked but perfectly white teeth. A small mole on the bottom of his chin.

Mason.

“Oh. Hey,” the tone of his voice immediately changed.

Autumn hadn’t seen him in nearly six months. She and Mason had started dating a year

ago during her freshman year of college. She had always been a relatively quiet person, plagued

by insecurities and self-doubt. She never felt like she fit in anywhere, being a brown girl in

predominantly white spaces. But when she got to college she promised herself she would

experience everything and not let herself fall into the shadows. The beginning of freshman year

was an adjustment but she instantly clicked with her roommate, Izzy, who helped her break out

of her shell. She’d met Mason at a party her roommate had taken her to and she was instantly

enamored with him. Under the low lights, they met eyes as he introduced himself and his friend
to Autumn and Izzy. She had her guard up and didn’t think they’d talk for very long. She was

surrounded by pretty blondes with blue eyes and long hair and she had to constantly pat down

her curls because the heat was causing frizz. She just expected Mason to not care to strike up a

conversation with her. But he was outgoing, witty, and extroverted-- qualities she’d always

envied in other people. He made her laugh and asked her what music she liked. He teased her

about not knowing that Tame Impala was one guy, not a band. And by the end of the night, she

was smitten. But Mason didn’t end up being who she thought he was.

Throughout their two-year relationship, he’d seen many other girls. Autumn hadn’t had a

clue until she discovered one of the girls was her good friend. All the other girls had blonde hair

and blue eyes. Or green eyes. Or brown eyes. She felt a deep pit in her chest, but she couldn’t let

him go. When she confronted him about it he got defensive and made excuses. It was “hard for

him to resist” and he “didn’t want to be tied down.” He told her he cared about her but that he

didn’t want to be exclusive. Autumn cried her eyes out but she went along with it and let him do

what he wanted. But to her, she believed that she was the problem, and she had to be different so

he wouldn’t need any other girls.

In a matter of months, Autumn had become unrecognizable. She wore her hair straight

with brown highlights. She joined the cheer team and made a bunch of new friends. She went to

parties every weekend at Mason’s frat. But still, his treatment of her never changed. One night,

the day before her birthday, she saw him kissing a girl by the stairs. Something in her snapped

and she could no longer pretend that she was okay. But when she confronted him he said that

they should call it off. She’d begged and pleaded with him to stay but he became cold and
distant. The last thing he told her was that he couldn’t pass up the 10s for a 6, referring to her

looks compared to the girls he’d been hooking up with.

After their breakup, she had felt that she lost her identity. She decided to take the time to

work on herself, but her focus shifted into an obsession that she couldn’t let go of. She started to

restrict her food intake and pay extreme attention to what she was putting in her body. Every

time she wanted food, she’d think of Mason surrounded by all those girls and feel sick, which

would curb her appetite. She did this for four months, but then sooner or later her sickness took

over. Now, it was all she could think about.

“Hey,” she replied in a cool tone to Mason, but her heart was pounding. She glanced

away from his eyes and instead focused on the donut display in front of her. “I’ll get 6 jelly-filled

and 6 glazed.”

Mason grabbed a box, filling them quickly with the donuts. She assumed he didn’t want

to be around her for any longer than he needed to.

“You got a party or something?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

Autumn felt heat rise in her cheeks. “No,” she replied. “I’m just hungry.”

“I’d suggest something more nutritionally dense, these aren’t good for you,” he looked

her up and down again--the fifth time in the past couple of minutes. “Just wanna watch out, you

know.”

Her stomach sank to her feet and she suddenly remembered all the comments about her

body he would make to her when they were together. Amidst the cheating, there were many

other flaws she had been blind to. A low grumble came from her stomach and the delicious

feeling overwhelmed her again. She stared into his eyes, all the hurt and pain bubbling to the
surface and being pushed down by feelings of insatiability. She hastily handed him the cash she

had and took the box, not waiting to open it. Autumn tore into the donuts ravenously, jelly

dribbling down her chin. Her tastebuds tingled from the sweetness of the sugar, and the softness

of the dough. Satisfaction filled her core for a second, but then her hunger tripled, intensifying.

She looked up at Mason wondering what else to tear into.

An hour later Autumn was cramping from a side stitch ten minutes into her jog around

the neighborhood. She didn’t particularly love running--Mason was big into the gym and always

tried to make her run his daily 3-mile jog in the morning-- but she didn’t have to worry about

him anymore. Suddenly, cardio wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

She walked the rest of her run, feeling the cool air on her skin. The leaves were

the color of candy apples and cranberries. She approached her house, wiping the sweat off of her

forehead when she realized that an unfamiliar car was parked out in her driveway. She peered

into the driver’s seat but there was no one there. Autumn approached her front door and noticed

that it was already unlocked. She knew she had locked it in the morning before she had left.

“Hello?” She called out.

She entered the kitchen to see her neighbor, Mrs. Anders, scrubbing the kitchen

counter. She was a middle-aged woman who still thought she was in her late twenties. Her son

used to go to Autumn’s old high school and she was super involved with the parents’ council and

neighborhood. She was also a huge gossip and Autumn could remember listening in on

conversations she’d have with her mother, complaining about the other moms and their kids. It

was a surprise that she was in here, especially since they’d purposefully tried to isolate
themselves from her. But the mess that Autumn had left in the morning was cleaned up, with no

empty packages or snack boxes in sight. The dirty floor had been swept and the dishes were all

put away. Even the fancy tablecloth her mom had brought from France that they’d never used

was suddenly draped over their square kitchen table. It looked like a brand-new kitchen. Mrs.

Anders looked up at her with a smile, crinkles forming at the corners of her grey eyes. Her smile

wavered a bit as her eyes surveyed Autumn's current state.

“Oh, hi there! I almost didn’t recognize you!” Mrs. Anders exclaimed, making an

over-dramatic gesture of her hands. “My...we thought you had moved away or something.”

“Nope, I’ve just been...busy,” Autumn explained.

“Well, you look…” Mrs. Anders paused for a moment. “Nice! It’s good to see

you. I was supposed to meet your mom here today for mimosas but I guess she got mixed up..”

“Oh yeah, she’s out of town. She’ll be back tonight though.” Autumn replied.

Suddenly something in her senses shifted. She could make out a sweet aroma coming from

somewhere nearby.

“Ah, the pie is just about done getting warmed up!” Mrs. Anders exclaimed. She

opened the oven and pulled out a large strawberry-rhubarb pie. It was golden and flaky on the

outside, steam traveling upward in spirals. In the center of the pie, the berries were a vibrant red,

sitting in a thick glaze. Autumn had never smelled something so sweet. Hunger immediately hit

her with a force so strong that her brain went cloudy.

 “I had brought over a pie for your mother but it started to get cold so I just popped it in

the oven! Try a slice! Be careful though, it’s very hot!” Mrs. Anders set the pie down on the

table and placed a large cutting knife right next to it.

“Would you like me to cut you a slice?”

Autumn could no longer think coherently. Her thoughts were scattered fragments

in her mind. She could barely utter the words, “yes please.” She watched as Mrs. Anders picked

up the knife, which was the size of her hands, and slowly cut into the pie. The knife slowly went

in and came out coated in the thick strawberry filling. Autumn watched carefully as Mrs. Anders

cut a fairly large piece and placed it on a plate for her. Once the plate was in her hands,

Autumn’s eyes went glassy.

She shoved the slice of pie into her mouth. It was steaming hot, but she didn’t

even notice how it flamed in her mouth. All she could taste was the gooeyness of the berries, the

soft crust, and the sweet sugar. Her body soared, and soon the images of the delicious berry pie

were replaced by images of crimson-red blood.

She picked up the knife slowly, looking at Mrs. Anders in front of her.

“You have quite the appetite!” the woman remarked, her expression holding

judgment. “Grab another slice.”

Autumn didn’t move. She just held the knife and continued to stare at her

neighbor. Tan skin and rosy cheeks. Pearl drop earrings. A floral tank top and white Keds. A

slight glint in her eye as her expression began to change,

“Are you okay, honey?”

 “Yes,” Autumn said in a low whisper. “I’m just still hungry.”

Without a second thought, Autumn lunged forward.

Donna Lewis pulled into the driveway of her house just as the sun had set. She

had spent the majority of her weekend drinking, feasting, and spending time with her girlfriends.

Coming home felt like a chore, but she had her daughter after all, no matter how their

relationship had changed in the past few months. She glanced at her appearance in her rearview

mirror and wiped a spot of red from her chin, a reminder of this past weekend. In the corner of

her eye, she spotted a familiar car sitting out in her driveway, belonging to Melissa Anders, her

neighbor from next door. She wondered what she could be doing here at this time of night. Then

she realized that they were supposed to meet this week to have tea and catch up. But Donna had

so much on her plate that the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.

She got out of her car and unlocked the front door. Stepping in, she noticed that

all the lights were off, and it was eerily quiet. The only indication of any presence in the house

was a sugary smell that floated through the air, like strawberries.

She followed the scent to the kitchen, which was a mess. Pots and pans were

strewn across the floor, there were puddles of water from a tipped-over flower vase and broken

glass on the table. Sitting next to an empty pie pan and an object wrapped in the French

tablecloth Donna had bought years ago was her daughter. Autumn looked up at her with wide

blue eyes and a stained mouth. Her hands were covered in a dark shade of red and sitting below

her feet was a knife.

 Donna then turned to the object wrapped in the tablecloth and brought a hand to touch it.

It felt soft and firm. White shoes poked out the bottom. Donna turned back around to look at her

daughter. She brought a hand to Autumn’s face and wiped a few crumbs off her chin. She let out

a sigh.

“Now what did I tell you about cleaning up your messes in the kitchen?”