To Albatross Island

The trouble started when I went to the refrigerator the fourth time. Why I kept peeping on that cake I cannot say.

"Miranda! Stop opening the fridge! You'll let all the cold air out and our electric bill will cost as much as your orthodontia!"

"But, Mom, it's so prettttty."

"It will be prettier if you're still alive to eat it tomorrow."

"Fiiiiine."

I took I picture on my phone before swinging the door closed that final time. Zooming in and out of the photo, I admired my handiwork as an expert froster and colorist. Except - oops, missed one spot.

"I'm just going to fix the corner, Mom." I announced this at a decibel Mom was highly unlikely to hear from across the house, while slowly opening the illicit fridge and pulling out the crystal cake plate.

Just at that moment, Charlie ran into the kitchen with Patrick on his heels. Both were waving massive plastic swords.

"Come back here, pirate! The king will have your head on a stake!"

Backing away from the action, I held my breath and lifted the cake high above my brothers' headed. No matter. Patrick's sword came straight across my wrist, breaking my grip and letting loose the cake plate and all that it held dear. Knocked on the head under the tumbling weight of the crystal, Patrick dropped to his knees and then scrambled away rubbing his head and hollering at Charlie.

"Mirandaaaaaa!"

I looked up from the pile of chocolate, frosting, and broken crystal to the sound of my mom's approaching footsteps. And, without even trying, I disapparated.