I blow out my candles, look around the room, and cant believe it. Everyone is here, with pearly white grins on their faces. Everyone I love, everyone I thought I lost, they are here. With me. Beside me. For me.
Pink and purple are the only colours in my vision, my favourite colours. The pearl embroidered cake with a huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY in red jelly upon it. The walls, which I knew my family had taken their time and effort to paint, just for me. The presents that seemed to form a sort of a fort around my cake.
I take a piece of cake, the sweetness overwhelming my taste buds. Tears well up in my eyes. Is this even real. My mother went up to me and placed a wrinkly hand on my shoulder.
I am so proud of you butterfly, she says.
My mom loves me so much. I adore how much she loves me. I want to love someone like that one day too. Im young. I have time.
People start the tune. Oh that tune I love so much. Its the one everyone sings once they age up, but I cant help loving it. My grandma sings the loudest, and the most beautiful. Her voice reminds of angels in the sky, the ones in the most gorgeous white dresses with the golden halos. My father bends down and places a kiss on my cheek.
I smile.
The moment that smile makes an appearance, everything shifts. The room isnt pink and purple. My vision is now tainted with black and white.
I hate black and white.
No one is here anymore, no presents, no sweet tasting birthday cake, no proud mother calling me butterfly.
Butterfly.
The last thing she said to my face before I pulled the trigger on her. She was now on the floor of this distasteful room, red forming a different type of halo around her head.
In my little headspace she was giving me kisses. Now she wont even have a chance to move again.
See you soon grandma.
Now Im on my bed. Gun in hand. Trigger finger ready.
Happy birthday to me.
