Beneath this sugary, fatty layer of sugar and fluffy cake, I see curly pink letters that read "happy" and I know "birthday" follows. Truthfully, this is the saddest I've ever felt.
A dribble of chocolate, pink and white ice cream sloshes around the edge, but I can't help but want to shove it away. There's streamers hanging from the roof, and I've blown out my candles. Everyone smiled. Everyone smiled: All I could do was stand, and it was, all I could manage to do. The confetti is still in my hair, and I can't seem to brush it out. I'm sure there's some of it in my shirt. Sixteen years of lies and misleading laughs, and I've never felt more destroyed.
Malice is running through my veins, and I don't know what I'm going to do with it yet. Maturity comes and I've earned a right for the truth: But, I haven't recieved any yet.
You'll be left and I'm going to smile the way I never have before, because the upper hand will gracefully slam on you.
I can('t) wait to make you sorry.
-31 March 2015
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Short StoryA collection of short stories. Some are longer than others. Some have more heart than others. You probably won't see what I see.
