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Chocolate Pudding.

Short Story By: Bibliophile
Young Adult


"Dang it Amy! Stop eating my pudding cups!" View table of contents...

 

Submitted: Apr 30, 2008    Reads: 30    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Chocolate Pudding
By: Kristyn D’Angiolillo
                I walked into the kitchen one day hungry for one of my delicious cups of chocolate pudding. But as I opened the refrigerator door, I discovered that, once again, all that was there were the remains of a cardboard pudding holder. Amy.
                “Dang it, Amy! Stop eating my pudding cups!” No answer. “Amy!” The only thing I heard was the slight hum of the open refrigerator standing next to me. “Where are you? Amy?” I breathed a heavy sigh. She was probably just hiding from me again. I laughed. “Alright, I’ll play along!” I shouted. “One, two, three…here I come!
                I turned out of the kitchen and started up the stairs heading for her favorite place to hide. The closet. She could still squeeze herself in with the linens and towels when she wanted to send me on a wild search to find her. She wouldn’t be able to fit in there for much longer, but she definitely enjoyed it while she could.
                When I reached the top of the steps, I began to creep as silently as I could towards the closet. I stretched out my hand and touched the cold door knob. Strange, I thought. Usually I can hear her giggling by now. Maybe she’s fallen asleep waiting for me.
I ripped open the door and was about to yell, “Ha! I found you!” but was cut short by the sight of an empty closet; nothing but towels and bed sheets.
I started to become nervous. She always hid in the hall closet. Where could she be? “Amy?!” I yelled again. “Amy, where are you?” Silence. “I’m not playing anymore! Come out here this instant!” Still nothing. Not even the sound of little feet padding on the hardwood floor. I panicked.
I ran from room to room screaming her name. finally, I got to the end of the hall and turned into her pink-painted bedroom. I trampled across the Barbie doll-strewn floor until I came to her bed.
There she was, soundly sleeping, tucked under her flowery comforter. “Oh thank God.” I whispered. I picked her right up and held her tight in my arms. A single tear fell down my cheek and onto her golden hair.
“Uncle Johnny!” she said, just waking. “What’s wrong?”
“I just love you is all.” I told her, looking down and smiling at her small, chocolate pudding covered face.
               


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Love, Poetry, Death, Life, Poem, Romance, Pain, Fantasy, Hope, Sad, Sex, Hate, God, Horror, War, Humor, Hurt, Sadness, Loss, Dark, Fiction, Depression, Heart, Family, Friendship.

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