Letting The Odds Win

I don't know why I'm blindfolded, but I can make a good guess that it has something to do with celebrating my 25th.

"Now take a careful step," Kaitlyn instructs, firmly holding my hand, "and don't fall because that would be really awful."

I release a heavy breath. "Let me not remind you that whatever you say tends to usually occur."

She snorts, and the sound of it makes me smile. "Don't worry, babe, you're in good hands. Another step."

I find a stable footing before planting myself on another platform. "Where are we going? And what's the purpose of this stupid blindfold?"

"Can you make this any easier?" she swings, but I dodge her sarcasm.

"No, you should know how much I hate surprises."

I hear the click of her tongue as she buzzes around me, fixing my dress, hair, and jewellery. Finally, she whispers in my ear, "Now own it!"

Suddenly, I hear the bang of a double door swinging open. The blindfold does little to hide the spotlight surrounding me. I make sure to stand a little straighter, smiling with practised ease.

Kill me now!

I feel the delicate hands of someone undoing the knot of the blindfold, and the sight before me leaves me stunned.

I'm at the entrance of a ballroom decorated in various shades of pink with accents of gold and green. The floors reflect the light oozing from the chandeliers above. Arrangements of pink roses surround the room, along with balloons and vines with butterflies attached. There is a specific arrangement of roses that reads, "Happy 25th Birthday Serena."

I smile despite my stomach feeling queasy, giving photographers various angles of my pink sequin mermaid tail dress and my perfectly styled updo.

After 5 minutes have passed...and yes, I count every murderous second. I walk over to where Kaitlyn is standing, aware of the eyes that follow.

I pull on her arm, trying to fit us behind a column decorated with butterflies and vines

"Absolutely not!" I whisper-shout.

She flashes me a sympathetic smile. "I had no idea. My job was to get you ready and bring you to the venue."

"I can't believe him!" I curse under my breath. "Did he invite the press too?"

She cringes, and that tells me all I need to know.

"What am I? Twelve?" I utter in disbelief.

Kaitlyn holds both of my shoulders, wrapping me in a hug. "You look stunning tonight. Happy birthday, babe."

I melt in her warmth. Her signature scent of milk and honey coats my nostrils, sending a wave of peace to my brain that makes my whole posture relax. "I can do this," I mutter against her curls.

"You can do this," she reassures.

I look at her with a small pout. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Rightttt."

After a moment of solitude, the culprit finally finds me.

"Sweetheart! I've been looking for you since you arrived," Dad exclaims, his face lit up with a big smile. He plants a kiss on my forehead. "Happy Birthday, Princessa."

I bury my face in his chest. "Thanks, Dad. You didn't have to...I'm 25."

"Yes, but you're still my little girl."

I gather myself after a minute, standing straight again to face the paparazzi who love our father-daughter moments. Keeping up appearances, I guess.

My father hugs me one last time, facing away from the cameras. "Prepare yourself to come upfront," he whispers.

With the clinking of a champagne glass, the room goes silent. The band stops playing, the idle chatter ceases, and my dad stands at the centre of the room. Beside him stood something covered with a black cloth.

"Thank you all for coming! Tonight, we are here to celebrate the one and only Serena Moretti, whom I have the pleasure of calling my daughter. On this day, 25 years ago, the most precious gift was given to me. A baby girl. As I held her in my arms, staring into those hazel eyes, I promised her the world."

The spotlight finds me again. This time, my smile is soft as I stare at the man who neglected me for years after his wife left.

"Sweetheart, would you join me up here?"

Light follows me to the front of the room, giving my dress enough exposure to shift in colours. I look like a disco ball.

My spine cries for help as my lungs forget how to breathe.

My father turns to face me with tears lining his eyes. "I wish she were standing here right now. To see the woman you've become. I know she's proud of you, my love. You embody her in so many ways."

"Thanks Dad," I whisper, blinking back tears at the mention of my Mom.

"Throughout the day, you've been delivered 24 gifts. Right here...I have number 25."

Every birthday, my Father's way of celebrating me involves surprising me with the same number of gifts as the age I'm turning. It's one tradition that never died.

His fingers tease the cloth, pulling it off slowly. A grin spreads across my face as I get ready to be knocked off my feet. The last gift is always the best.

"Are you ready?"

Then it happens so fast. My ears don't register the sounds until I feel the warm drops of blood splatter on my face.

My eyes widen at the sight of blood covering my father's face. The scream is knocked out of my lungs as I'm pushed directly to the floor.

My limbs are frozen as I fall, my body motionless as my head connects with the cold tiles.

Everything slows down. The chaotic screams and rampant footsteps that fill the room feel frozen in time.

Warmth pools beneath my head, wetting my cheek. As my eyes flutter close, all I can think is...I'll finally get to see my mother again.