"Happy birthday to you!"

I stared at the cake, feeling taunted by the bright white frosting and messy red writing.

Everyone continued to cheer loudly, their voices echoing off of the dining room walls. Claps and whistles filled my ears; the cake was pushed toward me and the many singular candles flickered. Lifeless flames that seemed to merge together and grow bigger by the second.

""Blow out your candles, darling! You only turn eighteen once!"

"I wish," I murmured under my breath, but gave in and blew until the last candle light flickered out.

The room went dark. Everyone cheered. I thought I was going to be sick.

I felt it before I saw it.

The sharp stab of a knife.

My screams were drowned out by the roaring celebratory cheers. I was dying and no one knew.

But just as quick as it was gone, the light was suddenly flooding back. It filled my eyesight and whited out the edges of my vision. I blinked hard.

"Good morning! Happy eighteenth birthday, darling!"

I didn't even bother responding this time.

I'd lost count of how many times I'd relived this day.

Maybe this time I could stop my killer. Who knew how long I had left?

and there'll be balloons

balloons because that

best symbolizes us,

and life, too

the blowing out,

the candles,

stuck in icing,

these also say

the jokes,

best taken

lightly, so

the moment

of spoils

doesn't burst

too soon,

like new

Pinatas,

filled full,

entreats we

shouldn't try

but do...

08.22.2023

Birthday partay challenge @stellarwolf

Theres a loud, tinny sort of cheering as I blow out the candles. I slump back in my oversized birthday girl shirt a friend had given me, forcing a smile up at the group gathered that only look at me through their tiny little cameras. I swallow a grimace when my mother sliced a piece of the 12 tier crepe cake my father had delivered in lieu of a gift-- though it had been the woman he had cheated on my mother who had made it. I know this in every flinch of frosting dotting her skin.

"Happy 18th Birthday!' Is the general consensus of cheers. I pose for pictures. Smile a little manically when I realize this is the last year I'll have a party of friends. I swallow the crepe cake when my mother pulls out her own phone to record for my father, wherever he is.

I think id go back 18 years and a handful of months and choke on my cord just so she didn't have to marry him.