forum "Pass the story?" Add one to two sentences, only rule is just make grammatical sense to the best of your ability!

Started January 11, 2018 by @p3ncil

tune

Baffled, I stared at Grandma's sour face. "Ich habe nicht nach einem Stück Ananas gefragt," I told her.

"Its okay, I know you like it." she paused and then said, "it is nothing to be ashamed of. I didn't want to have a daughter who was pineapple. And I know you didn't want to have a mother that was a pineapple. But, the world is not a perfect world. We cannot have what everything that want. I hope that you learn that lesson before I die."

She paused and then kindly placed the pineapple in my lap. And then jumped out of the tree.

"Could it be," I thought, "that the soul of my mother resides within this tree? That my father has been lying to me all these years when he said mother left us to follow her dream of becoming an acrobat in Cirque du Soleil?" I sat in the shade beneath the branches for the next 45 hours, pondering the perplexities of life and imagining how Niel Degrasse Tyson built his career.

Next thing I know, I am standing on my bed sweating head to toe. I really hate dreams inside dreams, especially when one consists of being kidnapped. It's the last thing I need right now.

Everything felt so real. How can I be sure this isn't a dream to?

I whip my head around and examine my room. Posters and pictures line the walls and a compact lamp sits on the chocolate colored table by my bed

"Could this all truly be a dream? Could I really just be crazy?" No, I thought to myself, I'm not crazy, all of these ideas were once declared crazy by people who didn't believe in expanding their minds. The only crazy one here who didn't believe the past few hours is… me.

"They say you're crazy." The man said from the corner of my room.

"Well they are not wrong." I say, and the snap my mouth closed with my hand, "What is going on?!" I say, screaming.

"Crazy, crazy girl." He tsks' as he backs away into the shadows. "So crazy."

Fear tries to clutch at my chest, its icy fingers reaching for my heart, but I feel strangely calm. The stranger is the most normal thing that has happened in the past day. Daydream? I shake my head and focus on the man.
"Where are you going?"

"To save the world…" He frantically tries to rip off his clothes to reveal the spandex superhero costume he had on beneath, but the material of his slacks proved too strong for his pitiful excuse for arms. I sat in awkward silence, staring at him as he fumbled to get his shoes through the pant legs.

'To save the world' from what? I wondered.

I stepped out the room, the cold floor like ice against my bare feet. I shivered as I walked into what seemed like a kitchen. Someone was sitting there. I walked closer then a gasp escaped my lips. It was him!

He dragged me back into the room and closed the door.

I woke up again this time much warmer. I was alone. Who was that boy? He was familiar in an odd way. But I couldn't remember

I tried and tried but I couldn't remember it was like my brain was blocking either something very important or very dangerous.

I decided to do the only sensible thing at that moment. Eat.

Racking my brain, I spread peanut butter on a piece of toast and marvel at the normalcy of my action. A memory suddenly bursts through whatever walls my brain had set up and I dig through it hungrily.

The boy I had seen when I was five… Could it really be him? I was five, walking home from school, when a man jumped out of nowhere grabbing me and pulling me into a car. Then a boy came running, he was tall and had messy black hair. He must've been slightly older than me, maybe seven, Or eight?

He stood up surprised and began rambling.
“It’s been so long! How are you even here?i forgot to even tell you!”

The boy attempted to punch the man but only ended up looking like a complete fool. Then he yelled at the man "Not her you dummy! Leave her alone, find someone else for your experiments! She's with me!" Even though I had absolutely no idea as to who he was. That was it. I couldn't remember anything else. The memory just, stopped. I devoured my sandwich, it helped boil down my frustration… Slightly.

Where was my grandma when I needed her? She never failed to make me more frustrated than I was previously—the whole "hurt another part of your body to make your injury stop hurting" thing.

I cleaned up my mess and went to go look for her

I found my grandma sitting on my bed petting the pineapple I had thrown, stomped, and picked up again. She looked up at me, "Mija, you still do not understand. You must search for the sweetness of life. You must tear through its hard rough surfaces before finding peace and rest. Everything beautiful and enjoyable has some pain involved in it in a way."

I stared at her. Is my grandma crazy? Why on earth is she treating that disgusting dirty pineapple like it's her new pet? And what did life have to do with a fruit?

Also, who the hell was Mija? "Grandma," I said, "you're crazy." Grandma smiled widely. "That I am, honey bun, that I am."

"And you might be too sweetie." She purred, not seeming to stare at me anymore, but through me. "How would you know that you aren't? Is this not the reality that you've created for yourself?"