In the refrigerator

“It will all be all right,” the cottage cheese said into the darkness. “There is a better place awaiting us in the future.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” the eggs whined, their tiny voices muffled by the cardboard box. “She’ll never take you. You’ve been here too long.”

The eggs were right of course, in their shrill way. The cottage cheese was far past his expiration date and sat smugly in his corner.

“What’s going on?” cried the banana, sitting on the bottom shelf. “What’s going to happen to me?”

She had only gotten there the day before and the darkness made her nervous. She was used to sunshine and warmth. The chill scared her and she didn’t know what to expect. Somehow, she felt a sense of foreboding, and although no one had said anything, she knew she didn’t have much time left.

“Don’t you know?” the orange juice asked softly. She had been there for a week already and had seen enough good friends come and go to know her own fate.

“No, I don’t know anything,” the banana answered, quivering in the dark. “What’s going to happen?”

A sudden hush fell over the refrigerator. No one wanted to say it. No one wanted to tell the banana how it was going to end. Finally, the gallon of milk cleared her throat and decided to take the leap.

“We never know when it’s going to happen,” she said. “But when it does, it’s sudden. There’s a noise and the doorway opens. A light shatters the darkness and it blinds us. And we wait, listening to her breathe as she considers which of us will be the sacrifice. And when she makes her choice, she reaches in a hand, grabbing her victim and pulling him away from his family, no matter how hard he tries to struggle.”

The milk paused for a moment, collecting herself before she could continue.

“Yesterday, I saw her kidnap an orange, while his family watched,” she told the banana. “And we couldn’t do anything. But we heard his screams.”

“What does she do to us?” the banana asked, still not sure if she wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” the milk said solemnly. “But I did hear something, once, from an old cauliflower. He told me that once she takes us out of the refrigerator, she peels off our skins and eats us, piece by piece.”

The banana shuddered in the darkness.

“I didn’t want to believe him,” the milk said. “But once she takes one of us away, they never come back.”

The milk might have continued speaking, but at that moment, the light turned on and a large pink hand reached into their sanctuary.