October 3rd

Here I am sitting on a shelf all alone. All my other pasta friends have been bought. Ravioli was bought by this nice lady who was having a big surprise party for her friend. Shells fell on the ground when some kid came by and wildly knocked her off the shelf. Then some Key Food employee picked her up and walked off somewhere. Why does everyone like other pastas? Isn’t spaghetti just as good? Huh? Think about it.

October 7th

I’m still sitting here. Oh yeah, I just remembered I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Barilla and my gender is Spaghetti. Everyone calls me Spag. Anyway, it’s Saturday and there should be another shipment of food coming today.

October 7th (later)

Turns out that the shipment was delayed because of unpredicted rain. My friend Prego is still across the hall from me and we still talk to each other but soon he’ll be gone too.

October 20th

There was a shipment yesterday but friends come and go so quickly, they’re not exactly friends. Prego is still here but it is rare for us to talk. We are both raw and cold and want friends and a home.

October 29th

It turns out that today is the day for Halloween shoppers. Halloween is only in two days and I’ll have to get bought before then. I see lots of shoppers come into my aisle but none of them pick me up. At the end of the day, a young woman about 25 picked me up and dropped me into her red basket. Then the lady turned around, picked up Prego, dropped him into the basket and rolled right next to me. “This is going to be so exciting!” I whispered to Prego. He agreed. I can’t wait for what will happen next.

October 30th

Today, I just know I will be cooked. The woman brought me home and got out a large pot and started to boil some water on her stove. She dipped me in a few at a time. I was shrinking, smooth and slippery. I felt so good, better than I had in ages. My thoughts were interrupted when I was put into the freezer.

October 31st

I was taken out of the freezer this morning and then into the microwave. I was heated up for an exact period of 15 seconds. Then I was put into a plastic bag with no air at all. I felt like screaming: “Air! Must-have-air!” After a while, I was dumped into a large bowl. “Finally! AIR!” I then heard the woman say, “Okay lids! Stick your hands into the hole in this box and you will feel the brains of a dead mummy.”. Soon I felt lots of fleshy hands running through my goopy strings. Then the hands came out and I heard then woman say, “Here we have some goblin eyes, don’t pop them, they will feel really nasty!” Must’ve been the Grapes sisters. Red, Purple, and Green. Those triplets got along the best I have ever seen. Then I heard some “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeew”s. The woman’s voice trailed off. I soon fell asleep.

October 31st (later)

When I woke up, I was on a table in a bright area. The woman was walking towards me with Prego open in her hands. Prego was all over me now. He whispered to me “We’re gone. Nice knowin’ ya. Really.”


October 31st (a few seconds after that)

A fork stabbed me and Prego just clings on with his clingy sauce. I am entering a pitch black hole or tunnel. I think it’s a tunnel because it is horizontal, and I am going through it, not falling down. The fork kindly lets me slide off and I am chopped up into a zillion pieces. Now, I think I am falling down a hole because, well, I’m falling downwards. I am trying to gather all my zillion pieces together, but I’m too freaked. Omigod! I just remembered that I’m going die in a few seconds! Freeze world! I thought. It actually worked, surprisingly enough. Everything and everyone stopped in their tracks. Or at least around me. But that doesn’t matter. Wasting paper and ink! If you are a grave-maker and read this journal, please engrave a grave for Prego Ragu who died on Halloween night. Poor Prego. What am I doing? Don’t I care about myself? I mean, it’s nice that I care for others, but hello? Aren’t I important too? There I go again. Wasting paper and ink. Going off on a tangent. Anyway, what I wanted to say was, Mr. Grave Engraver, please make a grave for “Spag” Barilla who died the same day as Prego. Then suddenly we started falling again. Then all these bubbles started coming up from the ground up to me. I was dissolving and turning into… well nothing. Goodbye world. Don’t forget what I said grave-engraver.