Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Why Do You Hate Milk? ❯ Ed's Reason ( Chapter 1 )

Why Do You Hate Milk?

 

It all started when I was about seven years old. It was a Sunday afternoon, and my mom had just finished baking her famous homemade chocolate-chip cookies…

 

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That was the start of one of the scariest days of my life.

 

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Cookies, also known as the greatest thing God had ever created. There they were, on a shiny blue platter, fresh from the oven.

 

Don't forget, they were homemade, making them gooier, sweeter, and tastier, with its chocolate-chip morsels inside the baked dough…

 

…it's a taste of heaven.

 

Honey-coated eyes stared intently at the plate, while the jug of milk next to it condensed on the side. It was almost sweating in anticipation, wanting the cookie to dive into that sea of white…

 

C'mon, just for a few seconds? The boy frowned, checking the clock again. Please, just LEAVE the kitchen already!

 

As if God had heard him, a loud BRRRING-BRING! BRRRING-BRING! came from the room next door. Sighing, the woman wiped her hands dry with the apron at hand, and ran over to answer the phone. A muffled “Trish?” was heard—

 

“Oh, hello, Anneke! How are you today?”

 

—and that meant that she wasn't coming back for a while.

 

Seven year-old Edward Elric stood there, staring at his favorite dessert and drink in the world on the island counter, unguarded. “Mmmm…” he licked his lips, taking his tiny hand—

 

WHACK! The sound of something hard came in contact with something soft.

 

“YEAOUCH!”

 

Trisha Elric smiled coyly, waving the wooden spoon in front of her mischievous son. “Nice try, dear. You need to wait for the cookies to cool.” Emerald eyes rolled as she quickly replied on the phone, “No, no, not you, Annie, my son…”

 

Edward groaned, pouting as he gingerly touched his left hand, watching the abused area slowly become red. He stood there, rubbing his hand, while glaring at the cookies. After all, it was their fault for him getting whacked by his mom…right?

 

Damn you, stupid cookies…you made me get hurt!

 

Right.

 

All of a sudden both heads turned to the living room. A small THUD and the sound of pottery crashing were heard, followed by an ear-splitting scream. Judging from the cry, Ed mused, it was his little brother, Alphonse, who had ruined yet another vase.

 

“MOOOOOMMMMY!”

 

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Elric sighed. “I'm sorry, Anneke, I have to go. Al seems to have broken something…” Hanging up with her neighborly friend, she became a green-and-white blur, rushing to the living room, inspecting the damage that was done. “Oh, Alphonse, what am I going to do with you…?”

 

After hearing a few seconds of scolding and sobbing go by, Edward quickly brushed the conversation and the throbbing pain in his hand away, realizing something very important.

 

The cookies were alone…again.

 

Now's my chance! He thought joyfully, scanning the room. No brunette woman to scold him with a spoon, and, for certain, because she was vacationing with her family for the entire week, no eight year-old Blondie named WINRY to tell on him.

 

Perfect, the young male blonde smirked, happy for his convenience. He carefully climbed on top of the stool, reaching for one of the warm baked goods. “No one will notice if I just take one cookie…”

 

Gently lifting one from the plate, Ed quickly took the morsel into his drooling mouth. Finally, after almost fifteen minutes of waiting, he finally got it!

 

Wiping away all crumbs from his red shirt (with his hands) and any evidence that indicated that something was taken (like the chocolate smear on the side of his mouth), the young blonde proceeded to the next step.

 

Operation: Get Glass from Way-High-Up-There (a.k.a. the cabinet) was now in session.

 

Grabbing the nearest chair with his little hands, Edward made his way to the shiny target, climbing the piece of furniture as if it was Mount Fiji being his greatest obstacle.

 

Bing-go!

 

Clutching the fragile glass cup with his right hand, he descended back to the wooden floor, making his way to the other side of the island table, where the milk was. And just as he reached for the one thing that would quench his thirst…

 

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What the hell?

 

There, right in front of him, inside the jug of milk, was an oblong-shaped face. Large eyes locked onto him, watching his every move. Moving left and right, Ed also noticed that this…thing…had short, spiky hair and a large, deformed, pointy nose.

 

Adding those thoughts together, he came up with the only conclusion that seemed right to him.

 

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“OH MY GOD, THE MILK IS ACTUALLY AN ALIEN FROM OUTER SPACE!”

 

Semi-warm white liquid splashed all over the place as the jug rolled off to the side, away from Edward…

 

…while the liquid came crawling towards him.

 

OHMYGODIT'SALIVETHEMILKMANGAVEUSALIENMILKWHATAMIGONNADO—

 

He saw himself getting cornered to the edge of the room, forcing himself to jump to the nearest furniture—the chair—to save himself.

 

--WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN? WHO CAN STOP THIS? WHO'S GONNA HELP ME?!

 

“MOM! COME QUICK, BEFORE THE ALIEN EATS YOUR ELDEST SON!”

 

An audible sigh and scurrying footsteps could be heard as someone made their way to the kitchen. There, at the other end of the hallway, was his savior—his mom—who could kill the alien for him!

 

Jade eyes narrowed at the mess and the culprit, while shifting a sleeping Al to the other side of her hip. There her son stood, on a chair, where a white puddle surrounded him and the furniture he stood on. The container was lying on its side, the milk slightly sloshing inside from the sudden halt by the wooden leg of the table.

 

If she weren't so stressed by what had happened earlier in the living, room, she would have laughed and taken a picture. Instead, a scorn fell upon her beautiful face as she shook her head.

 

“Oh, Ed, it's just a spill…”

 

“But Mom, I looked at the jug, and it had a face! You gotta believe me, Mama, you just gotta! It was REALLY ugly, and it had spiky hair, and big eyes, and a big nose—“

 

Shaking her head at the nonsense he was spouting, Mrs. Elric took the milk container and poured what was left of it into the glass that was conveniently next to the plate of cookies.

 

“I swear, Edward Elric, that this has got to be the craziest idea you've ever thought of just to get one cookie,” she muttered, handing her son the dessert he desired and the glass of milk.

 

The blonde graciously took the cookie, but glared at the glass.

 

The face was giving him the look of doom.

 

Hazel eyes widened in horror as he jumped down from the high stool and ran frantically out of the kitchen.

 

I gotta get out of here…that stuff's gonna kill me!

 

“NOOO! UNCLE! I GIVE! DON'T EAT ME!”

 

Looking at the room where her son had just run to, Trisha shook her head, setting the newly awakened Alphonse on the counter while putting her hands on her hips. That son of yours is going to be the death of me, Hohenheim, she frowned, trying her brunette hair back. “Edward, come back here, you have to clean up your mess!”

 

The scurrying and muttering never reached her ears. “Edward?”

 

No response; her little naïve boy was out of hearing range.

 

“That's strange,” Mrs. Elric sighed as she saw Al trying to reach for a cookie. “Ed usually likes milk…I wonder what's gotten into him?

 

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Moral: NEVER trust the milkman, for he may change the container from plastic to glass…

 

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Author's Notes:

 

My Disclaimer is that Full Metal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, not me.

 

Hehehe, Edward was scared of his own reflection! xD I hope you enjoyed reading this one-shot. I certainly loved writing it!