Science  Write  Now

I could never commit murder. 

Red sprays as I stab the grapefruit. The blade rips through the skin, gliding through to the flesh as easily as the shard of glass piercing my foot. I balance on one leg, compare the oozing cuts. 

Just as I thought: the grapefruit tastes better. 

I leave the foot to the mercy of the glass, hacking at the grapefruit over and over until the final slice is made and all that’s left is pieces.

No, I could never commit murder. 

Not as well as she can.

As if on cue, the doorknob rattles. 

I bet she can’t find her keys - isn’t that cute? They’ll be in her pocket. She’ll do a little gasp when she finds them, and then...

The door creaks open, and the air is full of lavender. Stilettoes clack against the wooden floorboards – the soundtrack of a powerful woman, far too powerful. When she steps into the kitchen, a single thought calcifies in my mind. 

She has got to go. 

“Welcome home Val,” I smile venomously, “I hope you had a lovely day.”

Her perfect teeth glitter, “Of course, of course! Another day, another dollar – that’s what my boss always says.” She pauses theatrically, “Oh wait- I am my boss!” 

Val cackles, hand plunging into her handbag. I don’t even need to guess what she’s looking for. 

She pulls out a small box. 

Just like I thought. 

“I even had time to pop into the pharmacy on my way home!” she chirps, pressing the box into my palm. The label stares up at me, the familiar font clear and solid. Reliable.

I should’ve known Val would take things too far – take too much. But it’s ok. I’m in control. 

I move to take the box, but Val’s grip tightens. 

“Wow, your hands are sticky. What have you been up to today?”  

White acrylics creep past the box, sinking into the back of my hand, “Is that... grapefruit? Where did you get that?” 

She nods at the slices. 

I’ve got her. 

 “That’s right! It smashed right through that window earlier today. Isn’t that funny? A grapefruit flew through the window!” 

I cough up a hoarse laugh as I jab my finger towards the window, its frame lined with jagged spikes of glass. 

Val’s eyebrows leap to her hairline, eyes still fixed on the grapefruit. 

“I think,” she says slowly, “You forgot to take your medication today.”

Her nails burrow deeper. It takes me a moment to realise it’s my hands that are shaking, not hers. I swallow. 

“I think,” I say slowly, “You can’t fix that window.”

We lock eyes, staring as the silence stretches. 

At last, Val releases the box, lips pressing into a thin smile.  

I’m still trembling. 

“I think I need some sleep,” I murmur. 

 “Of course, dear, of course,” Val titters, “After all, you must be exhausted after such a long day.”

I grit my teeth, turning to leave, but the acrylics curl over my shoulder. The tips are stained with my blood. 

“Don’t forget your medicine!” Val chirps, “It’ll make you feel better.”

I nod, tearing open the box and popping a pill in my mouth. I expect the nails to release. Instead, they grip tighter. The scent of lavender chokes me as she leans close, goosebumps trickling down my arms.  

“You didn’t eat any grapefruit, did you dear?” Val whispers darkly. 

I try to swallow. 

“No. Goodnight, Val.”

The fingers unfurl. 

“Goodnight… dear.”

As soon as the bedroom door clicks shut, I collapse onto the bed. My muscles shudder into relaxation as the medication starts to kick in. 

I should go back out there. I need to go back out there. Val—

—Val was right. 

This feels so much better. The medicine always makes me feel better. 

I hold the box up to my face, eyes skipping over tiny print screaming warnings of addiction, overdose, death. Don’t mix with this, don’t mix with that. I’ve heard it all before. 

I pop another pill in my mouth and toss the box aside. When all’s said and done, it’s just a harmless little tablet. I’ll be fine. 

I close my eyes. When I wake up, I’ll get rid of her. I’ll be in control. 

When I open my eyes, I’m lying on the kitchen floor, surrounded by glass.

I always know when I’m dreaming.

I stare up at the broken window, sunlight washing over my face. I forgot about sunlight, its gentle warmth. It’s comfortable in a way I’m not used to.

How long has it been since I’ve left the apartment?

The flood of sunlight gives way to a tapestry of blue. Little puffs of white swim through the azure. 

I want to see more. I want more. I try to get up, but my hands are stuck to the floor. Sticky with juice. 

The yellow sphere meets my eyes. 

The grapefruit.

“You’re going to die in this apartment,” the grapefruit whispers.

You’re going to die in this apartment.

My eyes snap open. I’m drenched in sweat and darkness, heartbeat throbbing in my head.

It’s freezing in here.

I wrap the covers around my shoulders as I stumble off the bed, feeling along the wall for the switch. The click is loud in the silent room, but the light doesn’t turn on. I try it a few more times.

Nothing.

I swear the lights were on when I fell asleep. Must be a power outage.

I remember there being a torch somewhere in my closet - maybe on the bottom shelf? I feel my way along the walls through the dark. The closet opens easily and silently. 

I crouch down, reaching. At last, cool metal. I turn on the torch. 

I scream before I see the smiles.

Hundreds of women sit in my closet, each with a blood-lined grin etched into her face. It reeks of lavender.

The women hiss in unison, “Did you eat the grapefruit?”

I scream and scream, clawing at the carpet as I scramble to the door. My sweaty hands grope for the doorknob as I watch the women skuttle out of the closet. Their necks crack towards me, bones dislocating as they drag their mottled bodies across the floor. They’re all different ages, different sizes, different personas. But all have one thing in common: my face. 

I can’t even tell if I’m screaming anymore.

Finally, the door swings open. 

“Val!” I shriek.

She’s standing in the kitchen, gazing out the broken window. 

“Val, what’s going on? Is this some kind of nightmare? Hallucination?”

She doesn’t move. 

“Val, what have you done?”

Her head lowers, and for a second I think she’s crying. I put my hand on her shoulder.

“Val?”

Her head rotates around with a sickening crunch. 

What have I done. 

“What have I done?!” Val’s voice rises into an offended scream, “What haven’t I done! After all these years, after everything I’ve done for you, you’re just going to throw me away like the rest of them?! You think you can live without me – without us?”

She scoffs, “You’ve never lived a day in your life.”

The women pile into the small kitchen, climbing over each other to reach me. Their bony fingers wrap around my arms and legs, ripping my flesh as I try to scrape them off. 

“But you know what’s really sweet, dear?”

I shake my head frantically, mouth opening and closing as I retch on my sobs. 

Val leans in close, blood dripping from her lips as she whispers, “You ate the grapefruit, didn’t you?” 

I’m drowned in the women’s hisses as they drag me away from Val. Her head twists back around, seamlessly repositioning itself as she picks up a slice of grapefruit.

“I think,” she says slowly, “You took your medication today.”

Her acrylics glint red as she crushes the grapefruit, watching me flail with a vindictive grin. It’s the last thing I see before I’m pulled into the bedroom – into the closet. 

My body goes limp as I finally realise. 

“I think,” I say slowly, “You broke that window.”

The science behind the piece:

'Death by Grapefruit' was inspired by how medications that are supposed to be helpful, such as benzodiazepines (commonly used to treat anxiety disorders), can become dangerous when combined with something as seemingly harmless as grapefruit. Grapefruit binds to an enzyme that regulates the absorption of drugs, causing an overdose by allowing more medication to enter the bloodstream than usual. This idea of 'too much of a good thing' was paralleled with the relationship between 'Val' and the narrator, or in other words, the narrator's relationship with themself. The persona of 'Val' is helpful initially, living their life for them while their actual self is kept safe in the 'apartment'. However, once the 'grapefruit' - or realisation that they want to live their own life - enters the picture, suddenly 'Val' doesn't seem so great.