There is a war raging between myself and some sort of spiritual bread-loving being that lives in my house. Every time I go to get bread, there is none there. The first time it happened, it was a minor inconvenience, fixed easily by walking to the freezer (yes we freeze our bread) and pulling out a new loaf - simple! The next few times it occurred it steadily angered me more and more, its like I could feel the bread-loving being laughing at me, taunting me. I woke up one morning before school, feeling fine. My extraordinarily well set alarm song (Africa by Toto) had put me in a happy and wistful mood. I did my morning routine, shower, put on half my uniform, and began making my lunch when I had a sudden craving for peanut butter sandwiches. I pulled open the bread drawer, to discover the very thing I had been dreading - there was no bread. 'Its fine!' I told myself, and began humming Africa in my head to keep me calm - "It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from yoooouuuu" I went to the freezer. No bread there either. I had the sudden urge to snap something, but quelled it quickly "There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever doooo" I chucked on a pair of shoes and stumbled - half-dressed - out into the freezing morning air, unlocked the garage and heaved open the enormous freezer we kept to store long term food in, and rifled through it until I produced a bag of ice-covered, month old bread. "Its still good..." I told myself. I was going to have my peanut butter sandwich. I stalked back inside where I came across my innocent Dad, sitting at the kitchen island, reading a newspaper. Ah! A living person to take my rage out on.
"WHY AM I THE ONLY PERSON TO GET OUT ANY BREAD AROUND HERE!?" I bellowed at him. He ignored me, as he usually does when I'm angry, calmly picked up his paper and walked out of the kitchen. Even though he hadn't responded, it felt good to get it out of my system. I pulled a few frozen slices of bread off the loaf and put them in the microwave to thaw them. I watched the little dial tick down the seconds I had to wait. My peanut butter sandwiches were imminent. I pulled out the bread from the microwave to discover something curious, the bread felt oddly stiff and crusty in my hand, i looked closer at the slices, only to realise they had freezer-burn all over them. I felt my mind spiraling into a white hot rage, like a plug pulled in a sink full of water, my patience had emptied down the drain. I screwed up the slices in my hand until i felt a knuckle pop, and with a scream I threw the bread far and wide across the kitchen. I picked up the offending loaf, still inside the plastic bag, and flung it to the ground, only to kick it across the ground moments later. "THINK YOU GOT THE BETTER OF ME, EH BREAD? I'LL SHOW YOU!" After several minutes of this carry on, I felt my anger waning slightly, and stood still, fists clenched, and stared at the destruction around me. Bits of bread were strewn far and wide across the kitchen, in the sink, pantry, ground and stove. The loaf of frozen bread had ripped, the slices inside had fallen out and were lying over the floor, slowing defrosting. While i stood, breathing heavily through my nose like a bull about to charge, my mother walked in and asked in a curious voice
"Why is there bread on the floor?"~Beth~
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