Ghost Bird | ✔

Twenty-Six

Gingerly, I sit down on the bench at the booth. A clear vase on the table holds my favorite roses, Chrysler Imperial which probably came out of one of the rose beds at the front of the restaurant. To one side of the room, there is a glass case full of delicate looking pastries. I've never tried anything like it in my life, but my mouth waters as my imagination creates the tastes that I have always associated with their scents. The jukebox by the large bar is blaring a song that I have never heard before.

Cleopatra flops down on the other side and groans, "Ugh. They're understaffed. Apparently, a few of the people that work here have been gone for over a month and still aren't back."

"I hope they are okay," I say softly, studying the flowers that I have only seen in books.

Reaching out a hand, I trace the petals with my fingertips and find that they are as soft as I have hoped. I am about to smell the roses that have entranced me when a waitress arrives. Her brown hair is pulled back into a neat bun and her tag proclaims her name as Tanya.

"How can I help y'all?" She drawls, a sweet smile on her face. "Here are your menus. Do you know what you want to drink?"

"We'll just have orange juice," Cleopatra answers without really paying attention.

I don't mind her ordering for me, I don't know half the things on the menu, let alone what I would want. I'm happy just to be eating food at all, let alone food that is not an MRE.

Taking a menu, I look it over, mostly out of boredom. However, something stands out to me almost immediately.

"This is what I want!" I declare, jabbing my finger toward the item.

"Chocolate chip pancakes?" Cleopatra reads.

The air shifts and I can smell Uncle as he sneaks up behind me.

"An excellent decision," He agrees, sitting down next to me.

His wood brown eyes are etched with sadness, but Uncle doesn't say anything, only smiles slightly.

When Tanya comes back, she hands us our juice and takes our orders before disappearing to the kitchen.

Topping my glass back, the cool juice fills my mouth and senses. It is incredible, and sweet with a bit of sourness to it.

"This is incredible!" I exclaim after drinking the entire glass. "What's it made out of?!"

"Umm... The juices of an orange?" Cleopatra answers, looking at me like I am crazy.

"Well, that makes sense," I laugh, avoiding Uncle's pitying look.

"Sang, where are you from?" Uncle asks.

Hesitating, I answer, "A small town in Illinois."

"What kind of things do you like to do?" Uncle questions. "Do you have any hobbies or play any sports?"

"I like to sing and I like reading and art," I reply, biting my lip.

"Come on, Unc. Quit interrogating the poor girl, " Cleopatra whines before adding in a stage whisper, "She isn't very bright, you know."

Blushing, I look down at the table. Thankfully, Tanya soon arrives with our plates and sets them down in front of us.

My eyes widen as I take in the food. Instantly, I am eating it, abandoning any thought of the manners I learned about in books. It is the most heavenly thing on earth. Is all food this sweet and amazing? I don't think I'll ever stop eating.

But I do. Not even halfway through the plate, I have to stop. My stomach hurts and I feel sick. I guess you have to work your way up to eat normal food. It'd be worth it, though, especially if all food tastes this amazing. I'd be happy to eat and eat and eat.

"Wow! I've never seen a horse in a restaurant before!" Uncle teases.

My cheeks flame and I blurt, "I'm sorry!"

I know that I don't deserve food. What the hell was I thinking, eating like that? Good is for good people. People who are important. People who deserve their lives here on Earth. I don't deserve to live. I don't deserve to eat, especially not like that.

"—ry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeat over and over, terrified that Uncle will kill me. He knows the truth. He knows that I don't deserve to live.

"Sang!" Uncle cries. "It's perfectly fine! I'm sorry for making a joke like that."

"Y-Y-You mean you aren't going to kill me?" I breathe hopefully.

"Of course not!" Uncle exclaims. "I would never hurt you, Ghost!"

Instantly, my spine straightens. I whip my head around and my eyes focus on Uncle intently. The hope is gone. Now only fear and steel remain.

"What are you talking about?" I hiss.