Free The Pentrals by Crystal Mack Page A

supposed to look at each other, creating a weird double negative image. Violet’s mom didn’t see anything unusual, so perhaps only I saw the monster. Besides, I just got her to calm down and do not want to rile things up again.
    As we sit on the floor, I feel an uncomfortable stirring in my stomach. Something inside demands my attention, and I try to soothe the problem by rubbing my hand over my abdomen. It doesn’t help. The twisting sensation continues, making an audible grumble. I don’t understand what this internal rumbling could mean.
    “Violet, I don’t feel right. Something is wrong with my stomach.”
    “Oh,” she answers with a small laugh. “You’re probably hungry. You can grab something from the refrigerator, if there’s anything there.”
    I pull myself up and make my way into the kitchen. Just before I open the refrigerator, the monster reappears, glaring at me in the reflective door. It is just the same as it was upstairs, all protruding lumps and splotches. The gruesome face almost makes me lose my appetite, but the gurgling in my stomach forces me to find food. I pull back the door to escape the Reflection but am not greeted by much on the other side. It appears no one in this house has gone grocery shopping in weeks.
    Violet rarely cooks, so food preparation motions are not in my muscle memory. I have to choose something that’s ready to eat. There aren’t a lot of choices before me. I pull out a leftovers box I remember Violet storing only a few days ago. Upon opening it, a pungent scent fills the air. It makes my stomach twist again, but this time in a different direction. My nose crinkles up and my eyes pinch shut, trying to block out the offensive odor. Between this powerful smell and the Reflection’s frightening face, something is really trying to keep me from feeding myself. But I have to eat something. Inside is a pile of half-eaten noodles next to several limp vegetables. I scrounge around the kitchen for a fork and prepare to take my first bite of food.
    It isn’t good. As soon as the noodles cross my lips, I have an intense desire to spit them back out. Their slimy texture sticks to my tongue and the combination of flavors seem in direct opposition to each other. I have to get rid of this food and fast. But how? For a moment I’m unsure what to do. I think of the way Violet moves her mouth while eating, and try moving mine around in a similar pattern. I open and shut my jaw, mashing the noodles into an even more disgusting paste. When I open my mouth too wide, a few pieces fall out, spilling onto the lacquered countertop. I try to keep my lips together while I chew, but now my mouth is filled with the unpleasant goo and I just want it to go away. I move my tongue around and eventually the noodle blob finds its way to the back of my throat and I swallow it down. I almost choke as it makes its descent, but it manages to land where it belongs. Wow. I had no idea eating was such an involved physical process. Watching the action from the outside does not make it seem so complex; the food goes in and then disappears. It appears I know nothing about a Person’s inner mechanics.
    With each bite, I get better at the motions, though the food itself continues to disappoint. The vegetables are equally foul, lacking any indication they were once fresh and tasty. Or at least, I hope they were once fresh and tasty. If Persons need to eat every few hours to keep going, I would hope they would figure out how to create better tasting fuel. I’ve watched Violet eat numerous dishes over the years so maybe I will be able to find something more appetizing in the future. But as there is nothing else edible in this house tonight, I have no choice but to choke down my current meal. I don’t mention my discomfort to Violet. It’s not like the poor food choices in her home would be news. She probably can see it in my face anyway. It’s no wonder she usually goes out to eat.
    I fill a glass with water,