"Happy birthday to you..."
Nearly all my family stood around me, chanting like a demonic chorus.
"Happy birthday to you..."
My father held both his hands on my shoulders, serving more as a weight than a comfort.
"Happy birthday, dear Lil—HUAck" My uncle started choking. On what, I didn't know. The forty-year-old real estate agent began regurgitating his insides like a cat suffocating on its own hair.
My grandmother began punching him on the back. The coughing intensified.
"HUAck, HUAck, cough."
And then it was out. It was out and on my cake.
My uncle retrieved a napkin from his back pocket and delicately wiped his mouth. How civil of him.
The cake. It was salvageable; the green lump could be wiped off with a spoon.
I was willing to risk contracting whatever he had. In the name of savoring my cake.
Now knowing that my uncle was fine, they all looked back at me.
"Happy birthday to yoUUUUUUUUUUUU..."
I just want my cake.
YOU ARE READING
Its following me
HorrorWhen a stalker becomes enamored with a reclusive girl, he faces a chilling realization-she has no social presence, no friends to track. What lengths will he go to in order to forge a connection? Unravel the mystery now! In the quiet suburban town of...
