Chapter 6: From Curry Rice to Crispy Pancakes: Food or Life's Game?
⸻
"Holy shit!?"
I shouted out loud when I saw the house ahead. But what shocked me the most wasn't the house itself—it was the unexpected scene before my eyes that made my eyes widen as if they were about to pop out.
"Khun Ya!" I thought frantically, spotting my sister sitting at the small pavilion, along with her friends and the maid, all looking anxious.
"Shit… Jan!" I muttered under my breath, panic rising as I raised my hand to cover my face while staring at Khun Ya. Damn, those eyes… where did they come from?
"Damn it!" Jan exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, full of worry. "Will we make it back in time?"
"I don't think so," I replied, feeling the tension creep into my chest.
As we rowed closer to the pavilion, the maids and attendants rushed forward, tying ropes and carrying things, their expressions just as panicked.
Jan and I stepped off the boat, but an awkward hesitation gripped me—I didn't dare move further, afraid that one wrong step might be the end.
Her friends were staring at us, including the man lurking in the shadows. I glimpsed him and flinched as I felt his gaze pierce me.
Suddenly, she ran over and hugged me tightly. The pressure made me feel every bit of the strength in her embrace, even tugging at my wounds, and I couldn't help but exclaim, "Whoa…"
"Do you know how worried I was? Why did you—" she said, her voice trembling, the force of her hug filled with both love and concern.
But then she noticed the red stains on my shirt and froze mid-sentence. Her concerned tone switched instantly to shock. "Why is there blood!?"
Hearing her voice, filled with worry, my heart raced like it might burst from my chest. I floated for a moment before snapping back to reality. "Uh… it was just a little accident. Sorry for making you worry."
She paused for a moment, then ordered the attendants to fetch first-aid supplies before guiding Jan and me to sit at the pavilion.
I could feel the scrutinizing gazes from Khun Ya's friends, making me tense. Jan spoke up, hesitating, restarting herself mid-sentence: "I told him to row on his own."
I quickly turned to her, panicked. "No, no! I wanted to row myself!" I replied loudly.
They bickered back and forth, trying to explain, until she finally asserted herself. "Enough! Do you know how worried I was?"
She sat at the pavilion amid laughter and lively chatter with her friends, seated on the wooden floor, the sound of water flowing beneath blending with their voices. She felt the vitality of the moment—until an attendant ran over, face pale with urgency.
"Khun Ya! The boat from the small house… it's gone!" he shouted, panic shaking her heart.
Her mind went blank, as if struck by lightning. No matter who she thought might have taken it, the only answer that flashed through her mind was Waran. Her heart sank as images of her younger brother appeared—trying to row alone, secretly, in a reckless act that seemed irresponsible. But she wasn't the only one worried; the man's demeanor also shifted.
"Go find my brother right now!" she ordered sharply, staring at the attendant.
The attendant nodded and ran off, yet her anxiety only intensified. She didn't ask where I might be headed, whether the market or elsewhere, and guilt started to tighten around her chest. I'm such a terrible sister, she thought, feeling a heavy weight pressing down.
Time passed, and she decided to sit at the pavilion, knowing she shouldn't—but she just wanted me to come back safely. "Go ahead, everyone," she said to her friends who were lingering. Yet no one left; they wanted to wait with her for me.
When I finally rowed back to the pavilion, relief and shock flooded her at once. I brought the boat back, yet the moment I stepped onto land, her gaze locked on me, brimming with worry.
"Do you know how worried I was? Why did you—" Her words caught in her throat when she saw the red of my shirt and my hands. Shock surged instantly.
"Blood!" she gasped, her voice trembling. Her eyes scanned my body, finally stopping at my soaked shirt. She said nothing else, but in that split second, the minor concern had grown into something impossible to ignore. Everyone around fell silent, staring at Jan and me, as if time itself had paused.
I exchanged a glance with Jan, both of us frozen in concern, unsure what to do next. I swallowed audibly as she picked up the first-aid supplies, gently tending to my wounds, but the atmosphere remained heavy.
All eyes were on us. Every breath seemed amplified in the quiet. Suddenly, the man—the same one I'd noticed earlier—spoke up. "Did you get hurt?" His tone was friendly… yet laced with underlying suspicion. His gaze seemed to probe me harder than Khun Ya ever could.
Jan and I looked at each other quickly. She seemed like she was about to say something, then stopped. I thought to myself: I already told them—it was just an accident.
I tried to smile, gently. "Just a little accident on the way." I forced a calm tone, but I knew deep down the trouble wasn't over yet.
Then, a male attendant burst into the pavilion, making all heads turn simultaneously. "Khun Ya! Something big happened!" His voice halted everyone in their tracks. Jan and I exchanged uneasy glances; dread filled me as the attendant continued, panting:
"I… I saw some robbers attacking travelers on the way! They captured someone, so I had to rush here to report it!"
Jan immediately spat out the water she had just drunk, splashing across my face. I froze, slowly wiping my face and glaring at her, cheeks red with embarrassment. "Why the hell did you spit on me?!" I exclaimed, shaking my head lightly.
She grabbed a cloth in a fluster to wipe my face. The male attendant continued, agitated: "Yes, they stole everything they had, and Khun Waran… he helped… and he got hurt!"
I just thought to myself, I don't even know anymore, damn, I tried to help!
Still, he kept talking—stop talking already!
Jan froze as she tended my wounds, her expression shifting instantly from worry to anger. "Why didn't you tell me sooner!" she said, voice calm but tense, her hands shaking slightly as she focused on my injuries.
Her previously anxious expression now hardened noticeably. I could only smile wryly, thinking, Wow… my sister is turning into a full-on tiger!
She looked around, then said firmly, "Everyone, go back first." Her voice made the already tense atmosphere even heavier.
Her friends exchanged glances, nodded lightly, and left quietly one by one. The young man lingered for a moment, staring at me with suspicion, as if trying to uncover something—but finally just nodded and followed the others out.
⸻
I tried to explain and plead with my sister not to tell my parents about this.
"P'Ya… it was just a tiny accident, really. No need to tell Mom and Dad…" I said, flashing a pleading smile. But she didn't seem to care at all. Her eyes were fixed on me like she was plotting some kind of revenge.
I couldn't take it anymore. Time to activate the special function! Ray the actor!
I put on my best crying face, added a little sniffle for extra effect.
"P'Ya… please don't tell anyone. I really messed up…"
Jan, sitting next to me, understood immediately and joined in with puppy eyes.
"P'Ya… don't be so harsh, pleeease~" Her voice was adorably pleading, but I could tell she was thinking the same as me: just let's get this over with!
P'Ya sighed long and deep, clearly losing patience, before speaking in a flat tone:
"Fine… I won't tell this time."
I shot Jan a thankful glance for saving my life, and I, nearly a dead man, let out a relieved smile. I almost needed CPR just to calm down.
After that, Jan said goodbye and went home. I packed away all the clothes and stuff we'd bought—gotta keep the pretty outfits organized. Today was exhausting, so I told Yaem to prepare some food at my little house and not to forget water. Tonight, I'll sleep properly and recharge. Good night, me.
The moment my head hit the pillow, I drifted into dreams instantly.
— My brother was under a huge mango tree, staring at a red ant nest dangling from a branch.
A red ant nest?
"You ready, guys?" I said, holding the long stick I'd prepared to poke the nest, planning to make some traditional red ant curry.
Jan stood with her hands on her hips, squinting at me.
"Are you insane? If you poke it, it's game over!"
"Calm down, Jan, I'm a pro. This curry's gonna be epic." I looked up at Thomas still perched on the top.
"Thomas, you ready?"
"Ready, bro! Let's do this!" Thomas shouted confidently.
I carefully poked the stick at the red ant nest.
"Good luck to us," I muttered.
Then, without warning, the nest fell straight onto our heads, catching all of us off guard. Red ants swarmed everywhere—painful bites included.
"Shit! Run!" I yelled as we all scattered in chaos.
Jan screamed in panic:
"Told you! You're doomed! Idiots!" She flailed her arms, swatting ants off.
Thomas jumped down from the tree, yelling:
"Holy crap, they're everywhere!" He slapped ants off his arms.
We ran in every direction, not caring who went where—red ants were everywhere.
Jan shouted while running:
"I told you not to do this! Stupid!"
Thomas, who had been confident a moment ago, now looked equally miserable.
"Oh my God! I'm never doing this again!"
James, running behind us, tripped over his own feet and fell, making a ridiculously funny face.
"Seriously, why did we think this was a good idea?! We're literally being attacked by tiny demons!"
"Like this was supposed to be some brilliant plan!" Jan laughed loudly. "Next time, let's just order takeout, okay?"
I couldn't even laugh anymore. My head hurt, my legs hurt, but the worst part was the ant bites. I tried to run under another tree thinking I could escape—but no luck.
"Ray! Your back's full of ants!" Jan shouted, running to flick them off.
Finally, after running and swatting ants until exhausted, we collapsed at the base of a tree, looking at each other in total defeat. Sweat poured down our bodies as if we'd run a marathon.
"Never again, bro. Never again." Thomas panted weakly.
"I'll never touch a damn ant's nest in my life again."
"Exactly," Jan nodded hard.
"Next time, just grab a bag of snacks, okay?"
I laughed softly and sighed.
"Yeah… I'm officially scarred for life."
⸻
Everyone was scanning the garden, searching for Maria who had wandered a little further ahead. Amid the chaos and laughter echoing through the mango grove, they finally saw her slip and tumble during the frantic harvesting.
"Maria! Are you okay?" Jan shouted, a laugh already in her voice at the sight.
But a louder yell came from James nearby as a red ant bit him right where it hurt the most. "Ow! What the hell?!" he shouted, collapsing onto the ground, writhing in pain. It looked like he'd remember this one for a long time.
In the end, we didn't get any mangoes. We didn't make the red ant curry. But we gained one hell of a memorable experience that would never be forgotten.
⸻
I felt lethargic that morning. When I opened my eyes, the sleep still clung to the edges of my eyelids like the pillow beside me. A new day had begun, yet my body still felt like a heavy stone.
The servants went about their usual duties, preparing everything meticulously. Today was the first day I got to choose my own outfit—no one fussing over me for once. I wore a short-sleeved cotton shirt with bright floral patterns, comfortable for the sweltering heat, and shorts that allowed easy movement. My brown leather shoes were soft enough to walk around town all day without discomfort.
Once I was ready, I stepped out to breakfast in a room buzzing with unusually brisk energy. No one was really talking, and the atmosphere seemed tense… yet Jan arrived just in time.
"Hey, Ray! Come sit at the little pavilion!" she called, her face lit up with excitement.
We sat down on the wooden floor of the pavilion. As the servant brought over the treats, I waved them away. Jan smiled, handing me something she had prepared—something that left me momentarily speechless, because it felt like a piece of my own era in front of me.
⸻
"Check this out! I made it all myself. Exhausting as hell!" Jan said, lightly swatting my face with a fan. Her expression was half proud, half like she might collapse from the DIY effort.
I stared at the items in my hands, still in disbelief. Everything before me… it was straight out of my era.
The packaging boxes were crafted with care. Made from a mix of straw paper and coarse linen, lightly coated with sesame oil to give a smooth, slightly glossy finish. The designs were hand-painted, with European woodblock prints of roses and grapevines. Pastel tones were accented with touches of copper, giving an air of old-world elegance.
The first bottle—an indulgent bath cream, creamy white like milk, gentle but not thin. Jan had blended fresh goat milk with dried centennial rose petals (a variety she had secretly sourced), mixed with coarsely ground dried pandan leaves, and a few drops of oakmoss essential oil she'd obtained secretly, giving the fragrance of "rain-soaked forest" that I loved. When the cream met warm water, the faint scents of old roses and wet earth wafted softly, like bathing in a secret garden.
The next bottle—amber-colored shampoo gel, slightly sticky in texture, made from bitter orange peel, bael fruit pods, and gold thread roots, with dried centennial rose petals simmered into the mix. The scent was fresh and lightly tangy, reminiscent of hair just dried under sunlight filtered through large trees. The longer you washed, the softer the hair became, no overpowering scent, yet lingering delicately.
And the body oil, completely non-greasy, absorbed immediately like water. Jan used a base of rice bran oil mixed with black sesame oil, then added dried Champaca petals and a touch of benzoin powder distilled lightly, with a few drops of centennial rosewater. Left in a clear glass jar under the sun for three days, the fragrance blended naturally—classic and unadorned—like someone stepping out into the porch breeze after washing.
Finally, the perfume. A round French glass bottle with a long neck, topped with a blackened metal cap inlaid with floral patterns and mother-of-pearl, containing pale amber liquid that shimmered beautifully in the sunlight.
The scent wasn't an ordinary rose fragrance. It carried mystery and allure without being sharp. The top note was centennial rose (Rose Centifolia), an old French variety. The middle note, oakmoss, evoked the damp, quiet, warm forest in autumn. And the base note, benzoin resin from Laos-Myanmar, historically used in rituals, felt soft and vanilla-like, but never overly sweet.
The combination of all these scents harmonized in a strangely nostalgic way, as if distilled from the memories of someone who had loved deeply but never spoken it aloud.
Even the lip balm, housed in a cardboard tube, printed with charcoal and lacquer ink, blended with real wax and sesame oil, left a faint scent of flowers and honey lingering delicately at the tip of the nose.
⸻
None of this came from any recipe or formula—it was all scents that I liked and Jan remembered.
It was the kind of intention that didn't need words—just catching the fragrance made my heart feel warm.
"Thanks a ton! Seriously, you went all out," I said, my voice sincere, thinking how incredible my friend was. Every single thing Jan had prepared carried the scents I loved, brightening my day like sunlight breaking through clouds.
Hearing my gratitude, Jan's smile widened, her face glowing with happiness. We exchanged smiles for a moment before I sat down and opened the gift box, full of her love and effort.
"Of course! I'm a girl who loves beauty, so I figured—might as well make it all gorgeous!" she said, grinning, the joke adapted so foreigners would understand.
Then my gaze caught a boat drifting closer—a wooden boat rocking precariously as Thomas and the others sat aboard. Their faces were bright and cheerful, as if rowing over themselves was a joyous task.
"What the—!?" I blurted out, glancing at Jan, who was equally wide-eyed, before snapping my attention back to the boat.
Jan and I rushed down to the dock. They were rowing themselves, not a single servant in sight, while Thomas flashed a wide, proud smile at us.
"Okay… I'm starting to get P'Nya's point a bit," I muttered to myself as I grabbed the boat's edge, tugging it toward shore, my eyes scanning the loosely tied ropes.
"Hey, Ray! Help us with these bags, mate! We've got… a lot!" Thomas called out cheerfully, hoisting a heavy tote full of all sorts of things with pride.
I looked at the mountain of goods—baskets of fruit, fresh vegetables, and more items than I could possibly imagine using today.
"Why did you bring so much stuff?" I asked, shaking my head but unable to stop a small smile at their enthusiasm.
"For the party, mate!" Thomas grinned, clapping my shoulder lightly.
Party?
I smiled and shook my head again, then started tying the boat securely to the dock.
After that, we tiptoed into the house like sneaky burglars, though Thomas didn't seem to grasp how quiet we needed to be, walking loudly anyway.
I just chuckled quietly, tightening the rope at the boat's rear, thinking to myself that whatever happened, I hoped this party wouldn't waste any time.
We crept into the house, each step making soft "thud thud" sounds, Thomas and the others dodging awkwardly like they were stealing something.
"Why do we have to sneak in like this?" I asked, frowning but unable to suppress a quiet laugh, my voice low so no one would notice I found it funny.
"So no one knows we're here!" Jan whispered, still smiling faintly, glancing at Thomas, who seemed utterly confused.
"You're stressing too much now," Thomas muttered softly, exuding confidence despite the situation.
Once inside, arranging the goods, a soft "plop plop" sound from the fish wiggling in water briefly silenced the room. Everyone turned to look at them, as if expecting something dramatic.
"Holy—!" I cursed, startled by the unexpected sound, making a high-pitched yelp echo across the room. Everyone jumped as if hit by a shock simultaneously.
Then everyone stared at me in disbelief, particularly Thomas, who leaned over with wide eyes and open mouth, muttering almost in unison, "What?"
Leah, standing nearby, quickly ducked behind Maria, feigning calm despite her obvious surprise.
"It's just the fish," James whispered, peeking out from behind Maria, winking at everyone as if to say, It's fine, though she still seemed unsure.
Everyone stared at James, eyebrows furrowed, silently asking What the hell?
Jan turned to them sharply, "Why'd you bring them in alive? Weren't you going to kill them first?"
Thomas and James exchanged looks, suddenly realizing, "Oh… we forgot about that." Their expressions were blank, confused.
Jan and I, standing nearby, looked up to the ceiling, exhausted, then shared a weak smile.
"What kind of party is this?" I said, scowling, shaking my head while raising an eyebrow slightly at them.
"We're cooking, obviously!" Thomas replied cheerfully, as if I should have known.
I muttered under my breath, A damn party… these Westerners, lowering my gaze and rubbing my temples in mild headache.
Everyone in the room smiled awkwardly, unsure what to say next—this was clearly not the kind of party they'd imagined.
"Fine… let's do it in the backyard," I finally said, shrugging and moving toward the back door, silently signaling, If we do it inside, the house will be ruined.
They all nodded, having no choice, and followed me outside. Dragging the bags to the backyard, the space opened up, filled only with trees and flowers. The air felt calm and fresh, a surprising relief. A nearby canal gurgled gently, the smell of soil and crops from a small garden added to the crisp, refreshing atmosphere.
While the others carried the goods, I looked around, tired but secretly impressed at how relaxing the environment was.
Then we all started planning the cooking, each assuming a task like a covert operation.
"What should we make today?" Jan asked enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Fried rice with pork, khao soi, and…," she paused, thinking, "kanom buang! It has to be good!"
(Small explanations for foreigners: "Fried rice with pork" is a simple stir-fried rice dish with pork; "khao soi" is a northern Thai curry noodle soup; "kanom buang" is a Thai crispy pancake dessert.)
I stood there, listening, suddenly feeling disheartened. I furrowed my brows and let out a long sigh. "Fried rice with pork? Khao soi? Khanom bueng? I can't make any of these!" I muttered softly, then added, "It's not like I've never cooked before, but whenever I do, I watch YouTube, right? There's a model, a guide. But here… there's only this one book, and it's a charcoal stove!"
Jan turned to look at me. Seeing my stressed expression, she tried to suppress a laugh. She whispered softly, "Does he know we're not really good at cooking?"
"I don't think he knows, but he seems pretty confident," I replied, giving her a small smile.
Then everyone started to spread out, taking up their own roles like it was a secret mission. Thomas took out pots and pans, neatly arranging them in a row, while James carefully moved the large charcoal pieces into place.
I watched James struggling with the stove and couldn't help but ask, "So… do you even know how to light the charcoal?"
James looked up at me and gave a sheepish smile. "Nope."
There was a moment of silence, then soft laughter, because the situation was just too ridiculous.
We sat down for a brief discussion, planning what to do next—until a sound caught our attention… a sound coming from a fish in the basket, flailing around.
Everyone turned to look, and Maria spoke up, "The problem's probably the fish. Who's going to kill it?"
At that moment, a "beep-beep" echoed, like everything had been cut off. Everyone went silent in unison, and I found myself slipping into my own thoughts.
Suddenly, I heard a voice, sounding so sad:
"Why won't anyone pity me? I have feelings too."
A fish?
The fish was speaking…
I thought to myself, remembering a Thai book about a golden fish. "I'm going to be killed and turned into curry… why doesn't anyone care?"
Tears welled up in my eyes. But I didn't kill the golden fish! The thought made me feel completely helpless.
Jan's voice broke us out of this reverie. "Alright, everyone, let's play a game. Who's going to be the one to kill the fish?"
Thomas still didn't get it, but eventually, we all started the game to pick someone for the task.
And then… the burden fell on me.
I couldn't help but scream inside, "Yay! Okay, I'm fine… Genchana! Genchana! Teng… neng… neng… neng!"
Jan walked over, tapped my shoulder lightly, and smiled. "You can do it if you just close your eyes!" Okay… good… perfect.
Everyone dispersed to prepare the food, while I kept feeling disheartened inside. How do I make the fish die without suffering?
The others moved to their tasks, and I remained lost in thought. The image in my mind slowly played out—I imagined holding the fish under water, it wriggling as if it were suffering.
I muttered softly, "Drowning… doesn't that hurt?" But then I stumbled on my own thought. Wait… the fish is already in the water, isn't it?
And suddenly, it clicked. I'm going to make these fish as happy as possible before they die. Ahihihi. I laughed quietly to myself. Everyone preparing food turned to look at me as if they'd seen someone go completely mad.
Unaware of how odd I must look, I walked to the basket and placed the fish inside, then started spinning the basket carefully, rocking it left and right.
Everyone stopped what they were doing. They stared at me, bewildered, as if I had completely escaped reality.
Then I changed the motion again. For a while, no one moved. They all kept watching me, as I drifted in my own little world, tears glistening. Don't worry, you'll have a happy death, I thought.
I asked, confused, "What are you all staring at?" My voice was full of bewilderment.
Everyone shouted at once, "Whoa!?" Then they dispersed to their own tasks again.
I smiled to myself, looking at the basket where the fish had finally stopped struggling. Relief washed over me. A peaceful death.
The atmosphere was quiet now, mixed with the soft laughter of everyone returning to their tasks, while I stood there, smiling at my unusual fish-killing mission… which was anything but ordinary.
⸻
The atmosphere was a chaotic mix of laughter and clinking sounds as everyone dove back into cooking. After I handed the fish over to Maria to handle, Jan arrived. I gave her a sheepish smile, and she spoke, trying to hold back her laughter.
"You want me to do it? I told you, you could handle it," she said, her voice cracking with amusement she barely managed to contain. I pouted at her, a little annoyed, but couldn't help the corner of my mouth twitching.
Then I stopped in my tracks, stunned by what I saw. Nobody had started the stove yet. I froze, staring at the coals. It felt like a game missing a critical piece. I glanced at Jan, and the mere exchange of our eyes made it clear—we both knew exactly what needed to be done next.
I walked to the corner where the charcoal was kept and picked up a handful along with a box of matches. "Go get the fan," I muttered, a small smirk playing on my lips.
Jan, standing there, furrowed her brows slightly and asked, "What now?"
I just shrugged and started doing what I already had in mind. I sat beside the stove and began scraping the coals, while Jan went to fetch the fan, muttering to herself about why today seemed more like a monumental task.
We quietly tried to light the fire. The soft scraping of coals mixed with the faint sizzle as matches struck. The scene felt almost eerily still, until Thomas, who had finished organizing the ingredients, turned to watch us. He was speechless at my coal-covered face, while Jan's hair stood up as if she'd just woken from bed.
Jan, clearly getting frustrated with the unexpectedly hard task, said sharply, "Hurry up! Will this fire even work?" She shot me a look while I kept scratching the matches.
I just chuckled softly to myself. "Don't try this again…" I muttered, mostly to calm myself.
Once the fire was going, the cooking chaos resumed. Frying the sea bass in fish sauce seemed easy, but it turned out to be the hardest job. Oil splattered on my face as I tried flipping the fish.
"Ouch! Damn it!" I shouted, voice rising, while Jan laughed beside me, grabbing a towel to wipe off the oil.
Then came the curry fish—a process more akin to a messy science experiment than actual cooking. Pineapple slipped into the pot, spices toppled from their plates, and the clanging of pans on the floor rang loudly. It was a culinary battlefield; everyone was just trying to survive the chaos.
I asked about the chili, and James dashed over, cutting it and sneaking it from the nearby servant's quarters, whispering about his little heist.
I just stared, dumbfounded.
Finally, when the chicken massaman was done, it seemed like we had failed at almost everything else. The whole thing was a messy, chaotic path to a finished dish. But strangely, we all felt a sense of pride at finishing—even if the food didn't look very appetizing.
Then came the easiest dessert: Khanom Khrok (a Thai coconut-rice pancake). Yet, it turned into our biggest failure. The small round cakes came out looking like… well, something you wouldn't know what to do with.
After everything, we all sat around the table, faces drained, hardly daring to look at each other. We were exhausted, disheveled, yet surrounded by a mess that somehow felt alive with laughter that wouldn't stop.
I collapsed into a chair, voice heavy with defeat, "Next time, let's just buy it if it's going to be like this." I glanced at the mangled Khanom Khrok with disbelief.
Jan nodded softly, adding, "Yeah… same here." She smiled at everyone, trying to hold back laughter as the absurdity of our appearance sent her into silent giggles.
Thomas and the others just offered weak chuckles, unsure of what to say. The results weren't perfect, but the chaos and laughter bonded us anyway.
Suddenly, James, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up, sounding startled, "Isn't the fire out? There's smoke everywhere!" He looked toward the stove, still flickering with small flames, and then at us, eyes wide as if to say, "Don't tell me it's still burning."
I, lost in a daze, jumped up immediately, "Shit!" I shouted, scrambling from my chair toward the stove, just as a piercing scream rang out.
"AAAAHHHHHHH!"
The scream made me jump so violently I nearly toppled over.
"What the hell are you screaming for?!" I yelled back, but then froze, staring in disbelief.
Everything had officially gone to hell.า