The tension in the room was palpable. Every one sat silently around the long table that stretched across the hall the family had hired for their daughters eighteenth. Everyone was excited to come, with her becoming an adult. They all wanted to celebrate and decided to make it a big celebration, though not a surprise, she never liked surprises.

Her parents let her plan the whole thing and sat there writing down every small thing she requested. She was adamant that everything had to be white even though her brother, Luke, wanted red. It was his eighteenth as well after all, he should get a say in it, no?

No.

He sat in the other corner of their small living room sketching his own vision of their party in an old bullet journal he found in the desk drawer. He didnt dare show it to anyone though, not because he knew the idea would get turned down but because he was proud of the drawing and knowing his parents they wouldn’t just turn it down but also tear it.

“Its you sisters day as much as it is yours.” His parents would say.

As though she hadn’t made every decision that existed.

And now everyone sat in silence, sick to their stomachs. Some poked around at the cold food on their plates, others just sat there twiddling their thumbs. Their parents had their eyes trained on the police blocking the kitchen as well as the ones stood by all exits, holding the building in lockdown.

The hall was decorated white in the end, everyone at the table wearing white, only their accessories in colour. Other than Luke who sat at one end of the table In a red suit. An empty chair facing him at the other end.

One room was decorated red as he wished, not as others wished, but birthday wishes are different. The kitchen. Red decorated the kitchen, patterns and splatters covered the floor like confetti. The body of his sister being the topper. Her dress once white was now soaked in thick red.

Luke stared at that empty seat across from him, the place card stating his sisters name in beautiful cursive. He blinked and turned his head to his mother who sat beside him.

“Pass the wine?” He croaked quietly, heaitant to break the silence.

She only nudged him in response hoping to make him shut up.

“Please, Mum.” He persisted and she shot him a glare.

He sighed and pushed himself up from the seat.

“I need to confess something… I did it. Now, can you pass the wine.”