TheCup

• Daniel Park, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2009

When my eyes saw the cup, I just knew I had to have it. I came across the cup while browsing through a Korean stall in a street market. The moment my eyes saw the cup, I seemed to lose all power of independent thought. I walked over to the shelf; and as I did so I could feel my heart pumping faster and faster as I came closer to the cup. With two hands I gingerly picked up the cup. The room seemed to be brighter. As I twirled the cup around with my hands, my eyes absorbed the beauty of the cup. It was a blood red, with a slight flicker of gold around the rim and the handle. As I studied the features of the cup, my fingers felt the shallow engraving on the bottom of the cup. I tried to make out what it was. I blew to remove the dust. It was a mask. There was Korean writing on the left side of the mask. This must be a Korean Traditional Mask I thought to myself. It was coloured with a murky brown, somewhat like dried blood. I took the cup to the store merchant. “Miss, how much is this cup?” I asked. As the store merchant turned around, her eyes widened and the blood drained from her face. “Where did you find that? I thought we already sold it,” she replied and put her hand out for the cup. “Well how much IS it?” I asked impatiently. Her eyes glanced around. She pushed her neck out like a snake and whispered “Five dollars, take it and go home quickly.” I quickly handed her a five dollar note. The street merchant put the cup into a little box and handed it to me. I thanked her. She turned away.

As I entered my home, I opened the box and couldn’t help but smile happily to myself. Five measly dollars had bought me this cup. As I held the cup in my hand I stared deeply into it as I walked. Then all of a sudden I tripped over my bag. With a loud thud, I landed heavily on the wooden floor. I felt pain jolt through my lower spine as I picked myself up from the ground. As I picked up the cup, there was a ten dollar note inside. The note was clean and it looked brand new. Where had it come from? Maybe it had been in the box I thought to myself. I shoved the note into my pocket and took the cup to the kitchen sink and put it to be washed for use later. I went to the fridge and took out an apple. I grabbed a knife and started to peel the apple. As I was peeling it, I accidentally nicked my index finger with the knife. Blood instantly seeped out, but I was relieved that the cut seemed shallow. I walked over to the sink and began washing my hands. As I washed my hands I picked the cup up to wash it when a five dollar note dropped into the bottom of the sink. I quickly shoved my right hand into my pocket. The ten dollar note was still there. This was starting to scare me. I looked inside the cup, but couldn’t find anything that could some how make this money appear. As my mind tried to make sense of this, I thought of possible reasons. “Oh Magic cup please give me more money” I said loudly. Nothing happened. Hmm, maybe it’s something else I thought. Then another idea came to me. I half heartedly punched a wall. I checked the cup. No money had appeared in the cup. I punched the wall as hard as I could. Loudly my knuckles cracked, and instantly my hand began to ache. I checked the cup. A five dollar note had appeared. As my mind tried to come to terms with what this cup could do, I couldn’t help but be afraid of this … cup with the engraving of the traditional Korean Mask.

The next day, I went about trying to injure myself as much as I could, feeling both driven and desperate at the same time. I punched walls, slammed my fingers into cupboards, stubbed my toes on gutters and even dropped a brick on my foot. In total, I’d made three thousand four hundred dollars. More than five weeks pay. I called my Boss and said I quit.

As the weeks went past, the money was slowly become less and less. Punching a wall no longer gave five dollars, but now less than one dollar. That three thousand four hundred had become less than a hundred a week. My body couldn’t take much more but something drove me on. Something that was cruel. It was more than greed… much more.

As I was punching the fridge, I opened it for a glass of water. The fridge door had become crushed. I quickly called the local technician. “Excuse me, my refrigerator is broken, could you come and quickly fix it?” I asked. “Sure I’ll be there within thirty minutes.” Surely enough, thirty minutes later there was a knock at the front door. I opened the door and let him in. As he was pulling his shoes off he glanced at my face. His expression said it all. My face must have been a mess. I'd stop looking at any mirror completely in fear that I would be so shocked by what I saw. I gestured for the technician to enter. He didn't say anything about my face. He walked to the kitchen and looked at the refrigerator. He looked at the refrigerator and the many dents that were imbedded in it. He glanced at my bruised hands and the cuts along the knuckles. "If you want, I can fix it now but it'll cost you about two hundred and fifty dollars" he said. "Um, yeah sure fix it. Is cash alright?" I replied. As he began fixing out the dents, I was trying to figure out how to avoid paying this technician. Then I thought about the cup. The cup didn't seem to give me much money any more but a fresh person? As the technician mumbled something about being finished, I had already decided what I would do. As he was bent over, I grabbed a knife from the knife stand and stabbed him in the heart. I quickly looked at the cup. Maybe murder didn't do anything I thought. But the cup proved me wrong. Hundred dollar notes began to appear, overflowing the cup. As I gathered the money, I glanced outside the window. It was a gloomy day, with clouds hovering, threatening rain. I noticed my next door neighbour, sunbathing. Unaware.