When the morning came, and the new initiates of the plant awoke, all seemed within their grasp. Ethan went downstairs, opened the wide, cool fridge that was probably his best friend, and just stood there, looking at the waffles and bacon, frozen cupcakes and cookies, two-liter bottles of pop, and just smiled. He reached down, pulled open the small white drawer underneath his bacon, and pulled out an apple and orange. He sat down at the breakfast table, crying as he sliced the apple into quarters, finally feeling some hope come into his life.
Lizzie bounded down and pulled out the bag full of frozen cupcakes. She turned on the oven, and set eight of the little soldiers in two rows on a stained aluminum baking tray.
"You still feel like eating, after touching it?" asked Ethan.
Lizzie laughed, and said; "I didn't touch it."
"What, Stacey didn't let you?"
Lizzie popped the cupcakes into the oven and closed the door, and with a smug, aristocratic air said; "I didn't ask."
"Why not? I might've helped you to stop eating and . . ."
"And what?" she asked, her gaze suddenly calm and focused. "You ever ask why I eat? Why I've done this to myself?"
Ethan went to work peeling the orange. "No, I assumed you're like me; hungry."
"Well yeah, I get hungry once in a while. But I do it for self-defense."
"Self-defense?" scoffed Ethan, as he broke the orange into segments that he slowly popped into his mouth. "Defending yourself from what; the cookie monster?"
Lizzie leaned back against the kitchen cabinet, as her gaze went blank. "You know, I never liked the cookie monster. What was he, or it, anyway? Some undefined mass of fur that ate anything in its sight."
"It only ate cookies, Lizzie."
"So it found something that it couldn't get enough of. It could open its mouth, and devour the entire world if it was made of cookies. It would just keep on going, mindlessly, consuming for all eternity."
"Where's this going?"
Lizzie shook her head, and woke up. "Nowhere. It's just . . . the plant might make you able to resist temptation, or have confidence that you didn't before, but can it really fix anything? Can it undo things that have happened? Can it make up for all the lost time, and lost living?"
"Maybe it can make it so everything's so much better in the future. Or if someone's pissed you off, or done something bad to you, it can give you power so you can beat them."
"Oh, I want to beat them," said Lizzie, "but maybe I want to do it on my own terms. Maybe I want to do it with my own power, my own strength. Maybe I don't want the easy way out."
"You were real quick to take the easy way out, the first time Heather showed the plant. I remember you lunging for it, and would've touched it, if she hadn't have pulled it away."
Lizzie sighed. "We all have moments of weakness. I'm glad she pulled it away, so I could reconsider my choice."
Ethan shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, as he gathered the orange peels and threw them away. He picked up the apple and said; "you know, I'm full. I'll save this for later."
As he walked out the door, the timer sounded on the oven, and Lizzie reluctantly pulled out the cupcakes and began to feast.