The smell, the crunch, the stringing things that get stuck inbetween your teeth and the repulsive taste, of uncooked celery. Of course that is my opinion now. Believe it or not I use to LOVE celery. Cooked or not cooked I would be able to eat celery by itself with no hesitations. But, now the smell and tastes of it makes me gag with disgust.

It all started as a fun weekend with my cousins Joey and Gabby about 3 or 4 years ago. We had plans to go ice skating to kickstart and enjoy the winter season as kids should. But when we were ready to go to sleep at 12 a.m, which was an accomplishment then, I got hungry. The only way to silence my hunger was to eat something, it could have been anything. But after me and my cousin Gabby were looking in the fridge for a grueling 30 seconds, I grabbed a nicely chilled stick of celery, or as I now refer to it as; Poison in Cognito. It definitely wasn’t my first choice, but it was food and I didn’t have to do anything fancy to it to “enjoy” it. So I rinse it out with cold water to clean it and keep the cerely from getting warm, because nothing’s worse than warm celery, right? Once it was nice and clean for my consumption, I take a HUGE bite out of the celery and tare the stringy bits off the with my cringe worthy crooked barbarick teeth. It felt satisfying to have my stomach quiet again and not trying to start small talk with me every 5 minutes I was awake and not sleeping. But when me and the cousins went to bed, they were the only ones who were able to sleep that night.

My toilet had become my new best friend, always next to me to force me up when I’m down. Literally down as in on the floor, and force me up so I don’t contaminate the floor with my regret. My bathroom had become my new bed room. The pale fleshy baghe toilet that reflected the color of my skin and the sickly green color of the carpets I lay down on only to remind me of the awful mistake I had made only a few hours ago. I had been throwing up whatever was left inside of me for 3 hours of my life that I’ll never get back. Every couple of minutes in between me resting, something came back around for me to flush down my best friend. After I had become a human shell and had nothing left inside me, I returned to my original bedroom with blue and green walls. Looking at the sight of green around me was my own torture tactic that I must have been subconsciously planning when I had my uncle paint my walls. When everyone woke up that morning all sticky and sweaty, I told my mom what had happened and she explained to me that I most likely had the stomach flu, which wasn’t what I wanted to hear because I didn’t want to be sick when I was suppose to be enjoying the time I had with my cousins while they were in my presence. But unfortunately my aunt snatched them up earlier than planned and because of the demon celery inside me, we never got to go ice skating.

Nevertheless, if something doesn’t seem like a good idea at midnight, chances are they won’t sound good at anytime. So do yourself a favor, don’t. eat. celery.