The party was deafening. Kids throwing toys around, screaming constantly. I was the birthday girl. But it wasn’t exciting—more, indifferent. My hair was in a ponytail, my bow’s ribbons sticking out, the pink standing out. My beautiful pink dress was sparkly, and I had a badge on the right side of my chest that read, “Happy Birthday Clara!” written in dramatic letters. I acted like I was having a great time, but really, I kept seeing things. Unusual things. But since I didn’t want to seem like I was insane on my birthday, I decided to remain pretentiously optimistic.

“Here’s a present for you, Clara. It’s from Owen, is that your friend?” I hesitated, taking the small white gift. “Uh- yeah, from school.” I turned the opposite way, slowly opening the gift. Inside, was a small slip of paper. It read, “Happy Birthday, Clara. I hope you enjoy your day. Although, it could be better if you would’ve invited me. But you didn’t. It’s a shame, really. How you never told anyone that I’m dead.” I gasped, my eyes wide. My dress was suddenly very sweaty, and my mother came back toward me away from my little sister, Kat. I hurried and shut the box.

“What did it say?” She smiled happily, waiting for my response. “Just saying happy birthday to me,” my smile dimmed, hoping Mother wouldn’t notice. “Oh, nice. Why didn’t you invite him? I’m sure he would’ve loved to come.” I touched my hands anxiously, laughing. “It was so last minute, I completely forgot, sorry.” Mother rubbed my shoulder, “I totally understand. I mean, look how full the party is!”

She motioned toward the children and adults, but then.. I noticed a little boy. Owen. Oh no. His white shirt was bleeding, and he smiled big at me. I turned back quickly, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Are you okay?” My mom ran in front of me. “Um—yes, I thought I saw somebody. Sorry.” Mother just smiled and walked away, towards the adults.

I decided to go to the bathroom, feeling super paranoid and anxious about what just happened. I went in front of the sink, my hands trembling. What is going on? I washed my face with water, forgetting I had makeup on. “Oh goodness,” I started to cry, and then noticed there were words on the mirror that read, “You killed me, Clara.” I turned around, and there he was. Owen. I covered my eyes, but he walked towards me and pulled my hands down. “You really don’t remember?” he asked me, his face slightly upset. “I can’t believe it,” he kept on talking. I didn’t know what to say. This was all so weird. “I guess I’ll have to make you understand..” He smashed my head against the mirror. I was agony. It was black. I couldn’t see anything.

“Clara? The cake is ready!”