The Sorrow of a Blueberry
Now is the time I weep for my life, for my day of reckoning is at hand.
I look upon this demon, who is gazing her eyes upon me and my shell. I am held in place with a cocoon of flour, sugar, water, and a hint of cinnamon. Her eyes are out of focus with each other, looking different ways from one another. They were golden, yellow as a sunset signifying the ending of the day...A fitting observation, as these eyes now signify the end of my days. I spent my life in the glorious sun of a berry farm, nestled away in a bush, knowing that this moment was inevitable. My death, which will be wept for by none, is close, and I am nothing but a speck in the eyes of the one above. The beast that holds me licks her lips, anticipating my demise so that I might bring her nourishment. My life will soon be spent...but was a life really lived if I was born to die? To die for the entertainment and satisfaction of higher beings? To have lived for death, to be bred for my grave, and to enter this world for the sole purpose of leaving it? It seems folly, but nary a care is given to ones such as I. No, I do not matter, for who would care for a blueberry?
In my last moments I think of the days spent on the farm, connected to my bush. There were others connected to my bush as well, and we often chatted to each other using our bush as a communication system, sending messages to one another along the leaves of the bush that held us together. But then they came. Ponies approached the bush with buckets, and started to pick us all off of our bushes, one by one. I could imagine the screams of the others as we were tossed into the bucket, with little thought for our safety. Then, I was brought to a bakery, where there they encased me in this mixture and burned me, whilst I was screaming in pain as the hot air sizzled my flesh. And now, here I am, held in the hoof of the one who hath paid for my torture.
She has waited long enough, she decides. I watch in horror as the lips in front of me open wide, revealing a massive maw that shall devour me and my comrades, to send me tumbling down the dark abyss of her throat. Her white teeth glimmer like 30 different guillotines waiting to snatch away my grip with reality. I can sense the other berries in this shell, some alive, some burned to death. Then, we are propelled forwards and the teeth come slashing downwards, and I (mentally) scream as the life is torn from my body...
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“Oooooh!” I say, spotting a very yummy looking blueberry muffin. “That one please!” I point at it, and Mrs Cake takes it off the shelf and places it on the counter.
“Two bits, my dear.” Mrs Cake says. I hand over the bits and pick up the muffin happily.
“Thank you!” I say, walking out of the shop. I stand in the middle of the street, one of my eyes staring at the muffin I am holding. I bring it up in front of my face, and lick my lips. This is gonna be yum! I think to myself as I open my mouth and chomp down on it. I chew a few times, and swallow.
“Mmmm...” I say, tasting the delicious blueberries, before- “Ack!” I start to cough, choking on something...
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I wait for the end, for the never ending darkness to descend upon me. But alas, it does not seem to come! I look around to spot the dark inside of a mouth. Saliva curls around me, swamping me, and soothing my burnt skin. The teeth clamp down multiple times, and I narrowly avoid them as I get rolled about by a massive tongue. With a (mental) cry of agony, I spot the other blueberries. They are being massacred and mutilated by those white, soul stealing machines, chomping down on their corpses without mercy. It is odd, for I feel a unique emotion. It is only in walking to death, to know that you will die, and the berries that walk alongside you will share the same fate. In that moment, it is the time that you will ever feel the need give your life for a complete stranger, to sacrifice yourself for their sake.
Amidst the sorrow there grows anger, anger directed at the one who brought upon the death of these berries, my kin. The rage seems to boil my juices, heating me up until I'm ready to explode. I look towards the dark pit that is her throat, and a desperate plan forms in my mind. One of vengeance. I ready myself for action. The tongue starts to move, and I am thrown backwards, along with a mash of muffin mixture and berry skin. I feel myself in free fall, of the air rushing past me, brushing my skin. Using the sort of power that only comes with rage, I break past the physical barrier and manage to shift myself to the left. I stick with some muffin mixture against the short wall of the throat. The walls contract, and the mix gets squeezed past me, its purpose served. Now I am stuck here, the walls pressing against me, the pressure nearly crushing me to dust. But my plan works, and a massive blast of air smashes me back up the throat and out of her mouth, flying through the air...
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I hack and cough and manage to suck in a quick breath. I hit myself in the chest and it knocks the thing in my throat clean. It flings out of my mouth and lands on the ground.
“Phew!” I say, smiling embarrassingly at the ponies that had turned at the sound of my coughing. Turning my head away from them, I look at the ground to find the thing that had choked me. I find a single blueberry on the ground, and I pick it up, looking at it. It was covered in dirt and my spit.
“Ew.” I say and I pull my hoof back to throw it...
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I land with a thud on the ground, rolling across the dirt and picking up small stones as I revel in my triumph. I had survived! I have beaten the odds and defeated the beast! I had literally snatched victory from the jaws of defeat! Oh, this is a glorious day for all berries, to show them that we can fight back and rise up against this constant threat and fear! Aha! Here she is now, the fiend! She's holding me up and I can look her in her eyes. Her eyes show her weakness, her fear, her shame at being conquered by a mere blueberry such as I! And now, she is, um, she's- Uh oh.
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I bring my leg down and release the berry. It goes flying through the air and it lands on the ground with a satisfying splat. I smile and start to fly off, humming.
“That was yummy.” I say to myself.
A-N/ Yeah, I know, the philosophy is a little repetitive, and it isn't really spot on during some parts. But you wouldn't really expect a blueberry to have a very large grasp of philosophy anyway, would you?
The idea just came to me one night when I was thinking about...Well, I'm not really sure what I was thinking about, or how the idea even popped into my head. But it did, and now I'm posting this story to the internet and wondering what the hell goes on inside my head. Weird.
I wrote this in one day and edited it myself in another, so if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes I've missed please let me know in the comments.
