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Do Not Eat This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

I always wondered what it was like trying one of those. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, mom.” She was gone; it was now or never. I had to complete my mission now. I started to pull out my new tennis shoe box. I was searching over piles of clothes just to get to the shoebox. There it was the Nike shoebox. The glory to what I am about to taste. I searched to every corner. My mind was racing:
“DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.

DO NOT EAT.



Do not eat.
Do not eat.
Do not eat.







DO EAT. DO EAT. DO EAT.”
I had made my decision. Looking at it, I was making sure that I noticed every detail about it. Something caught my eye:
“DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.



Do not eat. Do not eat. Do not eat.






DO EAT. DO EAT. DO EAT.”
I found an edge to rip it open tearing words that made out the letters:
D-O N-O-T
E-A-T.
The letters that slowly turned into words that were catching my eye and to where I was being pulled in them. Hypnotized by studying how every letter curved, twisted, and came to points:
“DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.



Do not eat. Do not eat.
Do not eat.






DO EAT. DO EAT. DO EAT.”

Pouring the one tiny ball that came from the packet into what seemed my enormous hand, I thought to myself, “This is the time.”
I found myself suddenly thinking and questioning what I was about to do:
“DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.


Do not eat. Do not eat. Do not eat.






DO EAT. DO EAT. DO EAT.”

“I’m going to do this,” these were the words coming from my mouth right before I popped the tiny ball that I had been debating on eating for the last 30 minutes. I was chewing it slowly. Up and down, up and down, up and down. It took a lot of jaw strength to chew the ball into half.
BAM! I scanned over to the driver’s side window and found my mom trying to get in the car. She had no idea what I was doing in the car while she was gone, so I cleaned up my mess so she couldn’t see what I had been previously eating in her car. I raced over to the car door so fast she couldn’t even start her second round of knocking on the window. I still had the ball in my mouth:
“DO NOT EAT. DO NOT EAT. DO NOT EAT.



Do not eat.
Do not eat. Do not eat.






DO EAT. DO EAT. DO EAT.”

I was startled by the loud noise coming from my mom’s mouth, “Hello Ansley? I asked you what you were doing?”
“I’m not doing anything!” I was so sly. No one knows what I have done, what I have been chewing:
“DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.




Do not eat.
Do not eat.
Do not eat.







DO EAT. DO EAT. DO EAT.”

I was scared. I had been pacing back and forth in my room for now what has been 2 hours. 2 hours ago I was in the car debating on eating the ball and thinking:

“ DO NO EAT. DO NOT EAT. DO NOT EAT.




Do not eat.
Do not eat. Do not eat.









DO EAT. DO EAT. DO EAT.”

I had gotten water thinking that it would wash out the poison that lingered in my mouth. I was chugging it down thinking that if I didn’t it could have been life or death. But it seemed as though to me I had already made one earlier today.


I started to think about the words on the package DO NOT EAT. I didn’t understand how I could be so stupid to these crucial words that could determine between me living or dying. I knew I had to tell my mom. My mind was racing the same thoughts that I had been thinking earlier:
“DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.
DO NOT EAT.




Do not eat.
Do not eat.
Do not eat.








DO EAT. DO EAT. DO EAT.”

Walking in the kitchen I saw my mom making dinner. My hands were sweating, my knees were shaking, and I was almost in tears. In those very few minutes I felt my life going passed me. I started to think about my will, my mom and dad crying at my funeral, and my mom shaking me in the morning and me never waking back up. I knew I had to prepare my mom for my fate.

“M….m……m… mo..Mom?” I said feeling the sweat drops forming on my forehead.
“I….I….I.. swallowed a Do Not Eat moisture package ball.” I finally got it out and 10000 pounds got lifted from me instantly.

Quickly, my mom picked up the phone not saying anything to me. She punched in random numbers and they rang out a beep each time. I listened closely to the phone ringing and I heard somebody pick up, “Hello... This is poison control…”




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ROYCEPHUSThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
today at 12:19 am:
Wow! Great job! What happened next? Did you have to go to the doctor?
 
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