Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot. You don’t have to tell me twice, because I already paid a moldy-fridge fine from the storage place I got it from. You’d think that they’d be the one to pay me for my fridge molding over, but you know how storage companies work. They’ll charge you for everything, from the boxes and buying the locks to the “You just look like you have money” fee. I bet if there was a break-in at the storage unit, they’d probably charge me a “burglar” fee as well.
Actually, I wouldn’t even be surprised if there was a break-in at the storage unit. Last month, I pulled up in my ratty ol’ 2013 Toyota Corolla, just strolled in, and they didn’t even check for my damn ID! The condition of the storage unit I rented was also horrendous. It smelled of a geriatric hospital and old socks. When I lugged my fridge out, my fingers touched something slime-y on the sides. I immediately pulled back in shock, and the fridge slipped from my hands, landing on the floor with a CLUNK! The door to the fridge sprung open like a broken faucet. A green fog poured out onto the floor, mixing with the smell of dirty laundry.
Shit. I had just opened Pandora’s box.
There was moss covering every inch of the inside. Vines hanging from the shelves. A moist and fleshy sludge started to ooze out. As I took a step closer, I noticed things moving among the greenery. All kinds of organisms. An insect fused with moving human hairs on its back was injecting its larvae into the green sludge. There was a white worm that sort of looked like an alien sperm, weaving along the moss floor. Even the flora didn’t look normal — it seemed to stick to whatever touched it (or whatever it touched). There was a whole ecosystem in here! New plants, new species, all in my own fridge!
I knew what I had to do. I kept it safe in my dorm — secretly, of course. My fellow suitemates are getting more and more suspicious of the smell emanating from my room, but my research is still ongoing. At this point, I’ve documented over 50 unique species. I can’t have anyone destroying (or even knowing about) this fridge. It is no longer simply a means to store my open cans of Budweiser. No. It has become so much more than that. I’ve become much more than that. This wonderful ecosystem that birthed itself is my responsibility now. I’m like a god, watching over his earthly domain.
Perhaps this is my new purpose. To be the creator of a new world and bring justice and peace to it. Some day, my beautiful creatures will evolve into new life and replace humankind as a species. But for now, just to mask the smell, I’ll tell my roommates I’m simply a boy going through second puberty.
