Teacup Story – Apple Pie

Apple Pie – For some, eating apple pie quietly on a weekend wasn’t something special. But for Jasime, it was. (Genre – General, Rating – 12, Warning – Hints at childhood trauma)

Jasmine curled up on the sofa, cradling her warm apple pie and ben and jerries. She could just about hold the bowl and keep the blanket on her shoulders, her hands peeking out from beneath the warmth to hold the bowl and spoon.

The flat was eerily quiet tonight. The only noise came from the gentle mellow songs that echoed from her phone’s speaker, quiet enough to not disturb the neighbours but loud enough to stop her mind creating horrors in the shadows.

She should be scared, really. She was by herself, something that always had set her anxiety off in the past. It was night time, it was windy outside, and it was the middle of winter.

But instead of fear, Jasmine felt a security that she had never felt before. A sense of peace that embodied every nook and cranny of her tiny one bed flat. From the corner of the kitchen area, to the small lounge, to the bedroom, to the tiny room that passed as a bathroom. It was small, cramped, a god awful yellow colour, but it was entirely hers.

And no one knows you are here, Jasmine thought. She took another bite of the warm pie, revelling in the sweet sugary taste, the warm apple, the sharp pasty, the luxury of it all. It would have been called extravagant, maybe indulgent, back “home”. She would have been told that she was getting fat, that she would get fat, that she was fat. That she shouldn’t eat so much or so fast, and having ice cream as well was just going to be the end of her. No one would date a fat girl. No one would date her.

But here, in her flat, it was quiet. Jasmine could eat her apple pie and ice cream in peace. Something that would have been so simple, so natural to anyone else, felt like a victory to her.

This was her home, despite what they tried to tell her. This was the place of safety, this was her refuge from the world. Not the place where she spent her hellish childhood. It was here that she was comfortable, safe, and warm.

And it’s all mine, Jasmine thought, and no one can take that away from me.

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