Vivian Lau

Death by Chocolate

Trapped  in  caged  bars,  he  prods  and  pokes  around.  Lumps  and  bumps surround  this  strong  naked  muscle.  The  tongue  flicks  and  darts;  it  runs  like honeysuckle, and only hides  at  the  sight of rockets  or dandelions. His  desires make  your  bad  habits.  Each  bite  gnaws  and  shreds  the  insides  of  your  raw mouth, until you can no longer feel the hollows of your cheeks. A silent sickness, but  you’re  diagnosed with  denial.  Until  your  teeth  start  to  dribble  down  the edges of your lips, and your gums corrode into a puddle of viscera. When you enter  the  room,  the  taste  of  anesthesia  and  syringes  hang  like  a  heavy  rain cloud  in  the  air.  A  stack  of  sterilized  silver,  awaits  your  arrival.  The  smell  of molars and canines renders you immobile, and the bubble gum on the bottom of your shoe nails you to the floor. A piercing light illuminates the decayed void. The  tongue  pleads.  Incisions  on  incisors;  he  shrivels  at  the  stench  of  blood, blood, blood, blood, coming from your sandpapered mouth. Water spews out of The Fountain of Youth, where he bathes. Licking his lips, he devours the cotton balls.  His  renewal  is  a  cause  for  celebration.  Maybe  a  nibble  of  death  by chocolate. Or a bite of the Devil’s food cake. He thinks he can’t go to hell for this. You slowly part your lips, almost. But you catch your tongue.


Vivian Lau is a first-year international student in the College of Arts & Sciences at Boston University. She was born and raised in Hong Kong, where her family and dog still live. You will most likely find her at gymnastics practice or in her room, snacking and watching TV.