Godzilla Birthday Invitations Novels & Stories

"Here you go! I got you a present!" Cheryl took the invitation from him in puzzlement. When she read the title, she widened her eyes in shock. "An invitation to Grandpa's birthday? Grandpa… I knew Grandpa would never forget me!"

This day should be a happy and special day because it's my day, my birthday but I feel so sad and hallow inside me. Next on the list of events for tonight is the thirteen gifts, Mom sent an invitation for my birthday and it was written on the invitation that my thirteen gifts will depend on who is the first thirteen person to volunteer, I have no idea who are those people because almost all of our guests have a gift for me.

“Ella usually helps me with the planning but with her leaving, this suits my purpose perfectly. I want this to be a surprise for her. Anyway, first thing first, you should know that there are two things going to be celebrated at the party this weekend, Little Sister.” * * * The next morning, a card and a box arrived at her mother’s house and they were addressed to her. Judging by the Summers logo, she could tell that it was an invitation to Summers Entertainment's tenth birthday celebration long before she even opened the envelope and pulled the card out. What she did not know was the content inside of it. Instead of the usually printed invitation with details on the venues and such, on her

scribbled in gold, In elegant script, the invitation read: **"You're Invited: The Medleys Charity Gala. Date: Saturday, 7 PM. Location: The Grand Ballroom, New York City. Dress Code: Formal Attire."** My breath caught for a moment as I took in the words. This was more than just a gathering, it was a chance to step into a world of affluence and influence, a world that seemed miles away from my reality. The gilded edges of the card shimmered in the morning light, making the invitation feel even more special and daunting.

“Does it have snack pictures?” “No,” I said. “It’s an invitation to a gala,” Sebastian said flatly. “Do galas have snacks?” Poppy asked. “Yes.” “Then it’s important.” I reached for my coffee cup. In Sebastian’s hand, the invitation turned over. Then he stopped. Very slightly. But I saw it. On the back of the card, beneath the official gold print, was a short handwritten message in black ink. The Guest List Never Been Wrong. No signature. Nothing else.