It’s just a cake, my brain repeated.
But what did the brain know? I knew better.
“Don’t!” I threw myself at mum and yanked the knife out of her hand.
“What are you doing?!”
The whole family stared at me with their mouths hanging open.
“You can’t cut it,” I put down the knife at a safe distance and glanced over at grandma, whose eyes jumped from me to mum to the cake.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“What are you-”
I blew out the candles, then dug my hands right into the Happy 80th. I swirled my fingers in search for the pulse. There! I heaved a sigh of relief. I knew he was in there!
“Thank God, you’re still alive!”
I pulled out the tiny hand, then the rest of him emerged from the layers of the sugary mess.
“Oh, look at you!” He was a sweet disaster. It would take ages to wash the chocolate and cream out of that purple fur.
He flashed me that triumphant one-toothed smile.
“I win!” He squealed.
“Wh- what is that?!”
Oh, right. The family.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “We didn’t mean to make a scene. But sometimes the scenes just write themselves and I don’t have much to say. Oh, and I still forget not to play hide and seek with unfinished characters. But look at this cutie! Can’t say no to the little ones.”
I looked at his furry face. I was proud of this one, but there was still work to be done. I’d have to write the knowledge of the human world into his head and definitely do something to improve his social skills.
“Anyway, happy birthday, granny! You can now safely eat the cake!”