Blender

As the boy walks into the kitchen he flips on the light. The room is a mess, bottles and beer cans everywhere, dirty dishes piling up in the sink. He walks over to one of the counters that is rather void of any real obstructions. He takes the blender out of the door less cupboard above and rinses out the thick brown mush sticking like gum to the inside of it. As he walks around the kitchen he gathers a few canned food item of varying sizes from here and there. As he opens the different can's he laughs, identifying each with an emotion. Peaches for happiness, chocolate syrup for sadness, ravioli's for confusion, tuna for loneliness, and lastly, a can of shrimp, for death. As he puts the dirty top of the blender on he thinks back to his childhood to the memories of how his tongue swelled up and almost chocked him to death the last time he ate shrimp. He slowly presses each of the speed settings on the blender down the line to the end at liquefy. He stares at the blender, watching the food being slowly pureed into a slush of food and sea crustaceans. He finds a semi clean glass, not that it matters much but much more from a force of habit. He poured the dark gray slush into the semi clean glass thinking of how much thicker the gray slush is than blood. The tall glass looms in front of him, he knows that half the glass should make him through up. His hand slowly moves the glass to his lips and delivers the poisonous mixture. As the warm thick liquid flows down his throat it almost seems like there is nothing there besides the occasional drips on his dark blue tee shirt. He sets the empty glass down and can feel his throat begin to itch, he knows it is a matter of minutes until he will be blissfully asleep.