I squirm in my maroon gown, scratchy and too tight in all the wrong places.

Something is wrong.

I know it.

I just can’t place my finger on it.

I try to catch my sisters eye from across the expansive table. Around piles upon piles of rich pastries and piping hot tea.

It’s no use.

Her eyes crinkle with laughter behind her feathery scarlet hair.

She is completely at ease.

Not a care in the world.

Flirtatiously batting her eyelashes at the boy in the ugly striped sweater.

But somehow I know something is wrong.

Terribly terribly wrong.

The old woman with the kind eyes and teal hair keeps offering me food. I keep refusing. As food precariously balances on the plates around me, my section of table remains empty.

The food may look delicious, but to me it smells of sulfur. I can’t bring myself force it down.

A crash abruptly interrupts the buzzing chatter.

It’s quiet as the dead.

Nobody speaks.

They just stare at the pretty raven haired girl to my right.

Her glassy eyes dart to the shattered china on her lap, and she opens her mouth.

I assume to apologize for breaking the cup, but I’ll never know for sure.

She doesn’t get a chance.

A deafening pop erupts leaving my ears ringing. I am showered in warm crimson rain.

It matches my dress.

Horrified I look up at the others. They have resumed their chatter.

The teal haired woman smiles up at me and offers me a teacake.

I take it.