Trapped in a Box
Before I knew it, those two had killed me.
My rage flared, and I decided to crash Elaine's birthday party. As I stormed in, the birthday cake flew into the air, smashing to the ground. Gasps filled the room as I shattered their drinking glasses one by one. Dipping my finger in red frosting, I scrawled on the white wall: "Happy Deathday!"
Chaos erupted. Guests whispered in hushed tones, "Did the assistant say Mrs. Dalton was really dead?"
Elaine's eyes widened in horror, and the high-paid celebrity, worth millions, abruptly walked off the stage.