Sad and scary stories

You never know what will happen... Things come and out! Don’t make enemy’s, get weird/scary things and never do bad things and you’re okay.

[© 2017 All rights Reserved To Book Maker and Ninja Togepi]

Author's note


39. Happy Birthday

Candace lowered the cake and then pushed it toward the center. One by one, she inserted six candles that she had found in the cupboard, arranging them into a hexagonal formation atop the rich icing. And eventually, she got that darn lighter to spark, and so set each wick ablaze. 

She put down the device and took a step back. Her hands squeezed together below her beaming smile as she looked over her work. An aroma of butter and sugar swarmed the kitchen in which the girl had baked the two-tiered double-chocolate cake, which now was illuminated by those six candles, one waxy pillar for each year the young master of the house had graced the earth with his presence. 

Candace couldn't wait to see the look on the child's face when he saw the marvelous dessert made just for him. And she was ever so excited to find the relief in his parents' eyes at the sight of their spotless kitchen, with no filthy baking pans or silverware lounging upon the countertop or bathing in the sink. 

She had never minded helping out around the house, and especially took delight in surprising her housemates with a little something extra every once in a while. The Wilsons were such a wonderful family! Candace remembered they had moved in with her just a few months ago, and they were just about the kindest bunch of people she had ever met. The two parents both worked jobs every weekday, so they didn't have much time to tidy up the home. So Candace had taken it upon herself to do just that. And besides, the family payed utilities and rent, while she loitered around the place all day. It was the least she could do. 

And their little boy was a joy to behold! An angel mistaken for a human child, surely. Always respectful toward his parents, and never too shy to strike up conversation with his teenage roommate. Every evening he would come home bearing the most exciting stories to tell her, the riveting tales of the hardships of a preschooler. Told with such heart and passion that Candace couldn't help but imagine his scheme to sneak to the water fountain without asking first, to be a journey across an uncharted barren landscape, to retrieve a meager drop from the legendary Fountain of Youth. 

What a fascinating boy, and a delightful roommate. 

As for the couple, Candace didn't really talk with them much. She had tried to get to know them many times before, but they would either don disgruntled expressions, or ignore her altogether. So the girl tried to stay out of their way as much as she was able. The last thing she would ever want was too make them uncomfortable. 

And today was their young storyteller's birthday, so Candace had discovered this morning. At eight o' clock, she had awoken to the cheers of the mother and father. As she rose from the sofa she could peer into the kitchen, and she viewed the parents hugging their little boy and wishing him a happy sixth. Her eyes had widened at once. She had completely forgotten about his birthday! The girl wanted to kick herself; she had even made a mental note of it! So once the Wilsons had left for work and school, Candace forced herself into the kitchen and got right to work.

This was love, she knew. Even after her many years of living here, she had some time ago taken strides to avoid that kitchen. It wasn't that she particularly hated kitchens; it was just this particular kitchen. When she had moved in, she had been aware that it was tiled quite inappropriately, with a slick material that didn't mesh well with liquids. Many a baking session Candace would learn again and again to watch where she trod, lest she be prone to flying sensations and throbbing behinds. It was the last experience when the floor had finally made contact with her head, that the concept had been completely comprehended. Yet although she had nothing to worry about now, just the thought of being in there made her stomach flop. But she conceded that she would do it today. It was her little roommate's birthday; she could do this. 

With the abdominal knot overcome, the hardest part was behind her. The rest of it shouldn't be too hard. Candace had always loved to bake. Her family had always said that she was destined to open a pastry shop someday, or at least make it on one of those baking shows on TV. Sadly, that had never ended up happening, but Candace was quite alright with that. Because she could whip up a birthday cake so astounding that Cake Boss would beg for her number, and then merely gift it to a friend or any youngster she knew. She hoped that the Wilsons wouldn't mind the absence of a few eggs and some milk and sugar; it was going to a good cause. However, recently she had to rid of her nice baking pans and fancy icing tips, so what she had at her disposal was mediocre, but workable. The little boy wouldn't get a multicolor-layered monster truck five-tiered birthday marvel, but in all honesty, he most likely wouldn't care anyway. It was chocolate cake, for heaven's sake. 

Any moment now, Candace knew the Wilsons would walk through the front door, catch a whiff of that silky scent, and advance farther to find the presentation upon their dining table. She prayed so very hard that they would like it. Yes, their child was the primary concern of the occasion, but the girl felt that her roommates thought ill of her. She needed to show them that she really did enjoy their company, and that she wasn't just a useless entity. 

Suddenly, a click echoed about the foyer, and hinges squealed beyond. Candace tried to compose herself as she stood upright, her hands held upon her skirt. Footsteps erupted up the stairway, as a youthful voice rejoiced, "It smells so good!" 

However, a much lower tone wavered. "Did you leave the lights on before we left?" 

Another sounded confused. "I didn't. Did you?" 

There was silence, before a little boy came into the kitchen, in full view of Candace beside the dining table. He took one look at the cake, and his jaw dropped to his knees. "Wow!" he gasped. 

The girl couldn't help but laugh. "Happy Birthday, Luke!"  

He turned his gawk to her, and portrayed a toothy smile. "Thank you, Candy!" he exclaimed, as he dashed toward his birthday cake, and began bouncing in place next to the table. 

Eventually, his parents made it into the kitchen, and stood where Luke had once before. However, they looked at the towering cake in horror, and never thought to pay Candace any mind. 

"Hello!" the girl greeted with a wave. "Good to see you! I thought you guys might want some dessert after the family-birthday-dinner, and so I made a ca—" 

"Luke, can you come over here for a second?" uttered his mother. 

The child turned his head to his parents, his smile having suddenly vanished. "Why?" he pouted. "Candy made me a cake!" 

Candace cringed. "I know it's unexpected," she explained, "but I heard that Luke likes chocolate, so it's double cho—" 

"Please come here, buddy," his father pleaded, his face having gone pastel. 

Luke looked to Candace, and then back to his parents. The girl felt so bad; this had been such a risk. The family had once previously panicked when they had found the entire house devoid of any clutter and speck of dust. Of course they would freak out at the sight of a fully baked and decorated cake. 

She had just thought, that maybe if they saw that she had made their son a cake, that they would understand that she was kind, and that she really did love living with them. 

"No, please, it's okay," she assured. "I made it from scratch. I'm telling you it's amazing!" She reached for the kitchen knife she had left beside the platter. "See, I'll get you guys a sli—" 

It took less than a second for Candace to realize her horrid mistake, for in perfect sync, the woman shrieked, and the man followed suit. Luke, however, was frightened more by the sudden emission from his parents than from the raise of the blade. The boy just really wanted some cake. 

Of course he did. For he knew of Candace's intentions. And only he. 

She immediately slammed the knife back on the table, and put her hands out before herself. "I'm so so sorry!" she shouted. "I—I just wanted to cut you some cake!" 

The woman rushed forward to take hold of her son, much to her son's blatant dismay. 

"Please!" Candace begged. "I'm not angry! I like you all!" 

The couple sprinted out of the kitchen with child in tow, of whom was screaming, "The cake! Go back! She made me a cake!" 

Candace dropped to her knees upon the cursed tile. "I'm sorry! Don't leave! I'm so lonely!" Tears trickled down her cheeks, as she caught them in her palms that may or may not have been there. The girl silently wailed beside her cake, unable to hear the engine rev in the driveway. 

She just wanted to show them that she wasn't malicious. That she meant them no harm. 

Candace was so lonely, so very lonely. 

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