3. Cupcake

One thing humankind has struggled with since the dark ages was surviving life, surviving the urge to self-destruct.

Birthdays were like a fever dream to me. I felt the years passing by, life slipping through my fingers. However, I couldn't forgive myself; I couldn't shake off the guilt deeply rooted within me. 

As I got older, I realized that my brain suppresses every memory of my birthday without fail - It was like some parasite found its way into my brain and fed on these memories, leaving only emptiness behind. 

My mother, Millen, eventually gave up on celebrating my birthday entirely. I don't blame her for this. Now I'm eighteen - eleven years passed since my father's death. And it was exactly ten years since I moved into this house.

Yet I still felt like the little girl in an unfamiliar house, afraid of forgetting her father's face. 

Kristina sat behind the kitchen counter, staring blankly at the little cupcake, beautifully frosted in bright colors with one tiny candle in the middle. She looked at a note hurriedly scribbled in capitals.

'Don't say you don't like cakes, Henry,' the note said. Of course, it was from Henry. 

Kristina lit the candle, watching the flame dance around absentmindedly.

She never liked how much Henry resembled her father. To be clear, Kristina could no longer remember how her father looked or acted, how he made her breakfast if he read her fairytales before bed, or how he kissed her goodnight. 

Henry was a good man. He was father to her longer than her biological dad ever could - yet she couldn't let go of the remaining memory of her long-gone dad. 

She never got to see him before the coffin closed up. They say that a parent should never outlive their kid. However, Kristina hoped this wasn't what they meant. Yet this memory was the only one stuck in her head, the pain and confusion she felt still vivid.

Tears prickled her eyes. Life is not fair.

"Wow, only you can pull off looking this sad so early in the morning," Alec shrugged as he entered the dark kitchen. 

"At least turn on the lights. I almost thought you were a ghost - hunting me for slacking off at school." Alec said brightly, turning on the lights.

Kristina hurriedly wiped off her tears.

"As if," Kristina sighed and shot a glare at him.

Alec sat next to her.

"What are you wishing for?" he asked, looking at the lit candle. Half of it was already gone. Wax semi-hard, dripping on the frosting.

"I don't know."

"If you don't want to make a wish, I will," Alec said as he snatched the cupcake and blew off the candle.

He swiftly stood up and took a big bite from it. 

"Thanks for the threat, sis," he said, munching the big bite.

"Hey, who said you can have it?" Kristina snapped at him and tried to grab it. Alec raised the sweet treat above his head.

"I can't have my sister eating wax for breakfast," he smiled, "You let the candle burn for so long that it almost ruined the entire thing. Even if you don't like cakes, how can I let it suffer," Alec exclaimed theatrically.

Kristina sat back down, her eyes mirroring the emptiness she felt.

"You can't be this sad on your birthday," his tone turned serious.

"Who are you to judge that?"

"You're right," Alec frowned, "I've known you for only ten years."

"Leave it, I don't want to listen to your bullshit."

"You're only eighteen once, so leave the sentiment and try to enjoy yourself a little."

Alec put down the half-eaten cupcake.

"Oh, right. Mom and Dad are going to the cemetery after work, so go straight home," Alec said as he turned around.

Kristina never thought that Alec could view her as his sister. He was so different from the little boy who used to mistreat her all the time. Is this what they call maturing? If so, Alec matured into a handsome gentleman like his father. Kristina stood up and threw away the half-eaten cupcake.

Alec's gaze lingered on Kristina before he closed the front door. 

However, no matter how close their relationship got, Kristina couldn't bring herself to call Alec her brother. She could think of him that way, but every time she tried to voice it, this simple word couldn't reach past her vocal cords - it felt wrong.

"I need to tell you something, Tristan," Alec said as soon as Tristan picked up.