Oma is an up-and-coming writer currently residing in Interior Alaska. An avid love of all things horror and reading, as well as creating, drove her to begin writing her own short stories at a young age. With a primary focus on horror, her stories range from soft horror to Splatterpunk. When not writing, she enjoys painting, reading and reviewing novels, as well as crocheting. Oma currently has a collection of short stories in the editing process and is working on a debut novel that she hopes to have published this year.
Updates about her work can be found here: Oma Ann- Author | Facebook
MAKE A WISH
by
Oma Ann
Streamers hung along the wall over the countless family photographs that lined the hallway. Balloons were scattered across the floor leading to an open kitchen and dining room. The dining room was fully set for a large party, guests filled each chair of the grand table. Sophie proudly sat at the head of the table, her bright pink dress and sparkling tiara contrasted the dim ambiance of the room.
Jack carried the tiered cake out of the kitchen, singing.
“Happy birthday to you…”
The last notes of the song rang as he placed the cake in front of his daughter, the lit candles illuminating her face. On her face, a smile was etched into taunt skin where Jack had carved along the corners of her mouth and then stitched the skin up into a permanent grin. She always looked so pretty when she smiled, just like her mother. If only her smile would reach her eyes, but they were no longer the vibrant blue they were just a year before, instead they barely shone in the light, dull and milky. Life had unfairly stolen their glimmer six months ago, and Jack hadn’t felt whole since. Until today that is.
Sidling around the chair, Jack positioned himself beside her.
“Make a wish birthday girl.”, he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
He leaned over and blew out the candles. When he straightened up, he looked out at his guests. Their faces were blank, in various stages of decay; unseeing, save for the person sitting directly across from Sophie. Sarah, Jack’s wife, Sophie’s mother, was, gagged and bound to the chair in front of her daughter.
Fear glinted in her eyes as she stared, silent and rigid, across the table at Jack. Jack smiled at his wife, and ruffled Sophie’s loose, tangled hair, before walking around the edge of the table and slowly making his way to Sarah’s side. He continued to stare down at her with a smile, closer to a sneer than the genuine show of affection that was usually held on his face.
Jack leaned back against the table and his fingers grazed a cold and smooth item. He grasped the handle and pulled up a long, thin blade. He brought the knife to his face and inspected it. He pressed his fingertip against the sharp edge, a ribbon of red rising to the surface and welling up into a small bubble of crimson. When he was satisfied that it was what he wanted, he let his hand slowly drop until the tip was pointed towards Sarah.
Pushing off from the table, Jack closed the distance between him and Sarah. He leaned down and gently tucked her hair behind her ear. The edge of the blade pressed against the side of her neck and a thin trail of blood ran down her neck, falling beneath the collar of her t-shirt.
“I worked so hard to put together the perfect party for our little princess dear. I would do anything in my power to give her anything she desires. And do you know what our little girl wished for today?”, he whispered.
Sarah’s looked up, her eyes meeting his. Jack lightly drew the blade across her throat and watched as a thin red line appeared on her skin. He smiled, bringing the knife back to her throat, pressing harder.
“She asked that I send mommy to her.”
With that, Jack jerked his hand, slicing through Sarah’s neck. He applied more force as he hit cartilage, dragging the blade back and forth until the flesh separated. Gurgling emitted from the cavern that had been her throat. Jack watched silently as Sarah’s labored breathes grew shallow and eventually stopped.
Turning back to look at his child, the room blurred. Hot tears welled in his eyes, threatening to overflow, but Jack swallowed them down and straightened up again.
“Anything…anything you wish for.”, he croaked.
With that, Jack came back around the table’s edge, still carrying the knife. He approached the cake in front of his daughter. Slicing a perfectly shaped piece, he placed the now blood coated treat on a pink, sparkling plate and placed it in front of Sophie.
“Happy birthday Princess.”