I wake up, and my eyes droop with exhaustion. Despite sleeping in silk sheets and a queen sized mattress, I had another sleepless night. I heard my alarm ringing, practically shaking my body.

I force myself from my bed, and slip on some slippers. My feet make the “sch.. sch..sch” noise as I drag myself to the bathroom. I do the daily necessities: Brush Teeth, apply some makeup, put on casual clothes, etcetera. I tie my hair back in a perfect bun, ensuring not a single strand escapes. I take my apron from its place on the wall. I tie it around my neck and waist, and position it straight across my body. When I check my time on the clock, panic hits me. I am already 10 minutes late.

I have exactly 2 hours to cook 7 people the the perfect meal. It sounds easy, but it’s not when those 7 people happen to be the haughtiest, pickiest, most spoiled beings in the world. If the food is slightly over or undercooked, consider my life over. Quite literally, because the people I had been cooking for were an entire family of monsters. They ate mainly meat, and ate it 4 meals a day. I doubt they would think twice about eating me.