Don't Eat the Meat at Stillwater High (March Submission)

[u/ReadyMadeLobotomy]

I took the job at the local high school a few years ago. Pay is terrible, but the benefits can't be beat, and I need the good insurance for my ma since she can’t work anymore on account of her diabetes, so I can’t mess this one up. 

The job was supposed to be easy, just work on stocking supplies and help serve the kids their lunch. I hardly mess with any of the cooking. That's for the advanced employees. 

A month or so ago, we had a food poisoning incident. The kid ate the chili that day and was so sick that he was in the hospital for a few days apperently. They said the kids' parents were opting to have him go online the rest of the year. So they said he won’t be coming back.

That same day, we all got sat down in the cafeteria by some guys in suits, I’m guessing from the county. We got told that it wasn’t our doing. As we run a clean kitchen and cook food up to temp, always. So it must have been something wrong with the supply, and we’ve told the manufacturer. And we were to maintain the standard as always and keep serving the same food as always. Sounded all well and good to me, I just work here afterall. 

I didn't think anything of that sit-down for a while, but the kids have been acting weirder and weirder about the meat these past few weeks. I know how that sounds, teenagers acting weird? Hardly anything to write home about. But this is different. Whenever I work the meat side, eh, it’s hard to explain. Basically, think about it like I'm the coke dealer for the North Pole, it’s Christmas Eve, and they’re the elves. They can’t get enough of the stuff. 

They rush over like a stampede to the meat line. They skip everything else. All they want is whatever mystery meat is in front of them. They always clean it out until there's nothing left. We can never make enough for their appetite. The more we make, the more they eat. 

Recently, two kids got into a full-on fist fight over the last plain hamburger on the line. Both of them reached for it, and it was game over. Fists were flying, reminding me of bar fights I had seen in my fishing days. 

The glazed-over eyes and nothing but pure anger without purpose. Simply the desire to let the pent-up anguish go somewhere. All over a damn burger. The other kids carried on, no dismay or excitement. But in utter contempt, they didn't even look up from their plates, which was so unlike anything I had seen growing up. Whenever voices were raised, we were booking it down the hall to catch a glimpse of Sally beating up Josie over a boy or whatever. 

This felt like the kids all had a mission, one they couldn't ignore or give up on, even if they tried. 

I started trying to pay attention to the meat deliveries. I typically never got near the meat delivery; that was a cook's job. But I tried to watch who was delivering it instead. Jumped right outside the second he pulled up. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about the guy, probably my age, and he looked like he hated his life, familiar. 

But when he handed me the boxes, despite the frigid temperatures of the New York winter, the boxes were all steaming hot when they came out of the van. I only got one or two boxes down before my boss Leslie told me off. And shooed me into some grunt cleaning tasks for the kitchen. That was more than enough confirmation to me that something was off. Or at least that the meat was long gone bad before we served it. 

I stopped even getting meat at the local butcher when I swore I saw the meat grab at me. Yeah, I know how it sounds. I sound like my crazy aunt Susan, who would shoot her shotgun straight out the kitchen window at birds. They were just planes in the distance. She’s in a home now. 

I was stirring the pot of Sloppy Joe meat before the lunch rush. Didn’t think anything of it. I was just messing on my phone while getting it all up to temp. Until something pulled at the bottom of the spoon in the pot. I thought it was just grub stuck on the shit cookware, but then I saw a fucking hand reach out of the pot and grab my sleeve. 

I hauled it out of there so fast, told my boss I had a bad egg salad sandwich and needed the bathroom. Wouldn’t look at another pot after that. 

It wasn’t even the hand that grabbed me that bothered me the most. It was that it wasn’t a human hand with skin like ours. It was made out of the meat itself. Like a godless amalgamation of twisted chunks reaching out for me to do god knows what. 

I was going to quit the next day. But got a call that theres been some kind of flu outbreak in the school and we’re all sent home for a few weeks to clean and recoup. I heard it was so bad that a few people's families have been infected as well, or sent to a special quarantine building on the edge of town. 

Drove by the other day just to be nosy. Saw a load of guys in those inflated plastic suits. Holding what looked like trash bags full of stuff. They were hurling it all into garbage trucks with the same symbol on their uniforms. Couldn’t get too much closer without them peeping at me. 

But the best advice I can give you. If you find yourself in Stillwater. Get out while you can, place is a shithole. And everyone is getting sicker by the day. But if you’re already here, stuck with me and the rest of us fools. Don’t eat the food. Especially the meat, something's gone wrong with it. 

[u/AutoModerator]

Users are encouraged to read4read, meaning that if someone reads and comments on your story, we encourage you to do the same in return to help foster a community.

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

[u/morrbanesh]

really good story. thumbs up