"I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious" - Albert Einstein

Category: Humanities

Juicy Juice

I gulped the last bit of fresh orange juice. The cold, sweet juice slowly slid down my dry throat. I instantly felt peace and composure throughout my body. I put down my cup that made a loud clink with sparkles in my eyes.

‘More! More! More!’ I yelled, pounding on the table and kicking my legs violently. My grandma looked at me like I was enraged. She walked to the kitchen and took out a large, weird-looking tube with a razor-sharp, spirally thingy. My eyes widened. What is that? Is it a fruit cutter? How does it work? Can I touch it? Thousands of questions were running in my head right now. I walked towards the blender being cautious and studied it from top to bottom.

‘No, no, no, Christina.’ My grandma walked towards me while pointing the index finger at me. ‘Stay away from the blender unless someone is watching you.’ I took a step back with my eyes making contact with the floor.

‘Now listen, below this tube is a Food processer. The sharp knife will cut you if you put your hand too deep.’ Grandma spoke in a stern voice. I looked at the clock but, my grandma was still going on about the safety rules and stuff. When is this going to end, I asked myself.

‘You got it, Christina?’ Grandma asked. Wait what? Was she talking to me? Whatever, it’s not that big of a deal, I told myself.

‘Vivian! Chop some apples for us, please.’ Yelling at the maid while she tapped her foot. Later, there were plates full of fresh fruits. We carefully plugged in the blender and started the machine. We plopped in fruits one by one. Apples, oranges, bananas, all kinds of fruits! I put another slice of apple in the blender. Slicing, mashing, one by one, fruits turned into juice. I quickly grabbed another fresh apple and squished it down the large, round tube. I suddenly felt pain and tried pulling my hand out of the blender. Until I discovered it was stuck. I started to sweat and yanked my hand harder, but it only made it worse.

‘Grandma! My hand is stuck!’ I cried for help. She looked at me like I was fooling around.

‘No, you’re not stuck. Let’s quickly finish this up before the fruits start rotting.’ While she made tea on the countertop. I started sobbing and cried for my Mom. She noticed somethings actually wrong. She looked at the blender, and all the liquid was red. Her eyes widened with fear.

‘What did you do?’ She screamed while calling for help.

Everything started to blur up.

‘I don’t know! Help me! Help me!’ I once again tried pulling my hand out. No use. Grandma? You there? Anyone? Everything suddenly went black.

‘What where am I?’ I sat up, feeling dizzy.

‘Are you ok, Christina?’ My family looked at me with anxious eyes.

‘Yeah.’ I whispered unconvincingly. ‘Let’s go home.’ I put my shoes on immediately and stood up. I took hold of Grandma’s hand, still feeling soreness in my right hand. And slowly wandered back home. From that day on, I will always follow directions from my parents. No matter how ridiculous or crazy it is, I will be responsible and respectful to my parents or guardians. I don’t want to have another scar.


Where I’m From

The Story of My Name

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