 On the morning of my birthday, I woke up to an incredibly sweet surprise, a cupcake with a little slip of paper poking out of its delicious frosting. I immediately grinned, imagining my mom or dad sneaking in while I was asleep, to place the delicacy. I also noticed a journal next to it with my name engraved on the cover in big golden letters, but the cupcake remained in control of my sleepy brain detention. I took a quick swipe at the icing and sucked it off my finger before grabbing the paper shoved in it. I was amused upon opening it. This is what it said, Happy 18th Birthday Mac, as a special gift you've been given this list as a way to fulfill all of your birthday wishes. Just write down all the things you want and they will find their way to you throughout the week following your birthday. I remember you saying you needed a journal, so I took the liberty of filling in one of the blanks with that. Happy Wishing. Below this explanation were four empty blanks to be filled in with whatever I could possibly want. I felt the biggest smile stretch across my face excited at how awesome this was going to be. My parents had really thought of an incredibly awesome gift idea and I couldn't wait to thank them. As I gobbled down the cupcake and took a peek at the monogrammed journal they'd gotten me, I slid my fingers around the golden letters of my name on the cover and I thought about what I wanted, writing it down as ideas popped into my head. Here's what I wrote, minus number one of course, the journal. Number two, a new phone. Number three, a German Shepherd puppy. Number four, a new watch. Number five, mom's chocolate cake. When I headed downstairs, they were already in the kitchen chit-chatting over coffee. As my mom saw me coming down the stairs, she quickly dashed somewhere in the den, bringing back a present and placing it before me. I'm shocked you didn't find it this year, honestly. She joked while beaming at me, waiting for me to open it. You've managed to get at least a sneak peek every year since you were five. I guess your father is to blame for some of those, though. She pretended to scowl at him, but couldn't keep up the act with how happy she was. My dad chuckled, pretending to shield himself from my mom's look with his coffee cup. Go on ahead. Open it, buddy. He told me. I opened it to find a journal. It didn't have my name monogrammed on it or anything, but it was still pretty good quality. I loved it, but I was confused on why they'd get me two journals. Why'd you get me two? I asked. To what? My mom replied, with a confused look on her face. Journals, you got me the other one with my name on it. I replied, I knew my mom didn't have the best memory, but she'd never forgotten something like this before. She always forgot little stuff, like things at the grocery store or to water her plants. She wouldn't forget she bought me a present and buy another one nearly just like it. I didn't get you another journal, replied my mom. She glanced at my dad and asked, did you get him one? My dad shook his head, clearly also confused. No, I told you you could handle his gift this year, remember? I showed them the journal, the note, and the cupcake wrapper, which they still continued to deny placing. Honestly, at that moment in time, I thought they were pranking me. And I'm sure in their minds, they thought I was pranking them or that maybe one of my friends was pranking us. Either way, it didn't seem like a huge deal at the time, especially after they revealed my biggest gift. They led me outside blindfolded into the driveway. After they took the blindfold off, I was shocked to see a white Nissan Altima with a big red bow on its hood. And I grin from ear to ear, completely forgetting the rest of this morning's previous events. Day two. For dinner tonight, my parents had decided to take me out to eat as another birthday gift. We'd all discussed how strange the cupcake and letter had been, but honestly, I'm not sure they entirely believed me about the incident. Even after I told them about the puppy, they still seemed a little skeptical. But I could tell they didn't want me to think they didn't trust me on the off chance that I was actually telling the truth. I'd have trouble believing myself, too, really, considering I got rid of the evidence of the cupcake fairly quickly, it was pretty delicious, and it was just a very strange thing to happen. Just before we made it inside the restaurant, my parents saw a friend of theirs who was leaving. They stopped to chit chat, and while they were in the middle of that conversation, I wandered off a bit down the sidewalk, admiring the bushes of red roses beside the restaurant windows. As I glanced down the alley beside the restaurant, I noticed they had a beautiful mural covering the brick walls, a mural of a sunset overlooking an ocean with a beautiful island in the background. I walked closer to admire it, and to get a peek at what the little figures on the sandy beach were doing. As I neared the wall, I noticed that they were tiny people, and that they'd been added fairly recently. I could see the fresh paint shining at the sun beaming down on it, and then I noticed the party hats on their heads, and the balloons in their hands, all surrounding a tiny person holding a cake. Eighteen tiny candles stuck out of the cake, lit up and waiting for their purpose, and the actual cake had an arrow painted on it. And towards the right, the arrow aimed towards what I assumed was the back alley of the restaurant, after I realized there was nothing on the painting that it could be directed at. The whole scene left me feeling giddy. Surrounded by the partygoers, the lucky birthday person seemed so happy, and they didn't seem to have any care in the world besides blowing out the candles on that cake. I wondered if that same fate awaited me in the restaurant. Would my parents surprise me with a cake full of candles ready for me to make a wish? Is that how they'd surprise me with another gift? Finally admitting it was them all along that had left the mysterious list. I felt that the painting was a sign for me, but I knew there wasn't a way to be sure without following the arrow. I felt my giddiness fade a bit, as confusion took over, however. Why would my parents put another surprise in the alley behind this restaurant? Suddenly appearing a bit ominous, the possibilities behind the arrow seemed dire, a stark contrast to the brightly colored birthday cake it sat upon. It seemed strange, but the idea that my parents were still behind the prank is what made my legs move in the direction that the arrow aimed for. I realized my judgment was flawed when I saw the puddle of red on the pavement spreading gradually to its grassy cracks, splayed out on the pavement, was a dead body, and whoever it was had unluckily had her head smashed in until her face was unrecognizable. Bits of her brain and bones surrounded her head, mixing with the blood to form a screwed up halo. Her right hand was chopped off, and beside the girl's body, infirmly latched in her only remaining hand, was a shopping bag from a very popular electronic store. The sight of it made my stomach churn. I tried to scream for help, or just scream at all, but it was like every muscle in my body had stopped. I couldn't look away from the gory scene. The birthday list flashed into my head, and as I glanced at the bag, I pictured a new phone. I tried to shut down that thought, but I swear the girl's fingers were pointing towards the bag like her corpse was wanting me to open it. Just as I jerked backwards, I lost my balance and fell to the ground. A slip of paper flew out of the shopping bag and landed at my feet. The wind still gently blowing. It made it seem like it was nudging my foot and my curiosity and got the best of me. I unfolded the crumpled up paper and realized it was a receipt for a new phone in the exact brand I wanted. Once again, happy birthday Mac was written at the top, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I had no idea who this girl was, so there was no way that she could have brought this phone for me. Someone was clearly screwing with me, but they were seriously demented enough to stalk someone and kill them just for me to have a phone. My eyes flashed to the empty space where her hand should be, and horrific images flashed through my mind. That thought slowly trickled out as I saw black spots dancing around my vision, and I felt dizzy. I slumped to the ground before I even realized what was happening, blacking out with a crumpled up receipt in my hand. Day 3 Being interviewed by cops is a horrible birthday present, but they question me about every single factor of my life and the current events of my ongoing birthday week before turning me loose. The worst part was being unable to sleep, and whenever I did fall asleep, I'd wake up screaming. I had dreams of watching her head get bashed in, her hand being sought off, and her receipt being removed and replaced in the shopping bag with her murderer's strange calling card. A calling card that had everything to do with me, which is something I'm sure the police will have trouble letting go of, even though I did absolutely nothing to that girl. Even with all this happening, I still had to go to school. My first ride to school in my new car would have been rather enjoyable, but the looming threat of another gift being given to me at any moment made it nearly impossible to not be on edge. You know those scenes in movies that are so absolutely perfect that the characters feel suspicious of their surroundings? They want to call bullshit on everything, but they aren't sure if they should trust their instincts or not. That's 100% how I felt, and that is exactly how this drive felt. I was just waiting for something to go wrong. And then, like clockwork, I saw something on the side of the road that made me pause. As I pulled over and climbed out of my car, I felt goosebumps. What initially caught my eye about the object was something bright red attached to it. I realized it was a red ribbon attached to something fuzzy. I paused in my tracks at the site, alarm bells going off in my head. There was a bow with a tag attached that simply read, Happy Birthday Mac, and nothing more. I looked around through the trees, wondering if whoever had done this, whoever was tormenting me, was somewhere out there, watching. But I didn't see anyone. Day 4 Whenever he wakes up in the morning, my dad's morning routine is to grab the newspaper and read it while drinking coffee. This morning, I became a part of that routine. My eyes opened to the site of him sitting on the edge of my bed with a concerned look on his face, and a box in his lap wrapped in birthday themed wrapping paper and a decorative bow on top. My parents thought it would be best to take the present to one of the detectives working on the murder case I'd involuntarily become a part of, and I, of course, agreed immediately. It was a few days before they got back to us, but there wasn't a single moment that I didn't think about what was in that box. A million different thoughts went through my head. I knew if it was something from the list and considering recent events it most likely was, it would have to be the watch. And then the detective called and explained that the exact same watch I'd screenshotted from a website a few months ago, still on my phone, was apparently on the girl's severed wrist. I ran to the bathroom and vomited. I locked myself in the bathroom. I just wanted to be away from everyone. My mom knocked on the door for a few minutes and I could hear the sadness in her voice. I needed to be alone though, and I just laid there on the cold tiled floor. Day five. As all horror stories go, the person within them goes through periods where they believe life can't possibly get worse, until it does. Their lives become a steadily increasing shit show of the worst nightmares come to life and they're just along for the ride. Torture is a gradual thing in these stories, and I wasn't very fond of the fact that it was being forced upon me. I stupidly thought it couldn't get worse, and then it did. My parents like to go for drive sometimes, and today I went with them. Everything was fine as we drove down our street, admiring the trees and the last glowing embers of sunlight. I allowed myself to be distracted, hopeful even, and that's not a good thing to be in a horror story. There's no room for hope in those, at least not in mine, and I was stupid to think so. The car isn't slowing down. My dad said, I've got the break all the way to the floor, but it isn't slowing. My parents just stared at each other, clearly in shock of what that might mean. There was an intersection coming up, and then we hit the car. I was instantly knocked forward, slamming into the console in the shifter with enough force to knock the wind out of me and black me out. I woke up in the hospital, apparently after a few surgeries. They told me the break line had been cut. My parents died on impact, and I made it out with shattered kneecaps, a broken pelvis, a concussion, and severe bruising. They said I'd been very lucky to survive and survive without being paralyzed or having severe brain damage or worse, but I felt far from lucky. After the accident, I barely wanted to live. I sat wallowing away in bed most days, completely convinced I had nothing to live for. I knew there was one last wish that hadn't been given yet, but there was no room for it in my mind thanks to everything else. My life had become miserable, all because of a stupid list. What was the point of the list anyway? Why was it sent to me of all people? Why was I chosen to be tortured? Every day, my physical therapist would come and basically beg me to get up and try to get better, try to exercise my limbs, but I couldn't find the motivation. Eventually, he convinced me by reminding me that my parents wouldn't want me to give up, and I knew that was true. It took a while, but I slowly got better. I got stronger. Despite my unwillingness and sometimes even downright repulsion to eat, a wonderful nurse named Lily tried her absolute best to get to me. She brought every meal they served me, uncovered the tray to try to entice me, and even offered to hand feed me. On one particular day, she mentioned an item on the lunch menu that made my heart drop. They're serving chocolate cake today, Mac. She said, she didn't see the panic on my face. She brought me chocolate cake later. And of course, there was a note slipped under the plate. This is what the note said. I know it's not your mom's, but that would be impossible now, wouldn't it? Happy birthday, Mac. Lily looked surprised when I burst into tears, and she couldn't do much to help me. Because I'm telling you this, it's been three years since my parents died. At first, I didn't want to go home, but after a while, that's where I ended up. My parents' lawyer told me I'd been given everything according to their will. I still had a bit of debt to pay off from the hospital, but at least I wasn't homeless. It didn't sit right with me that the gift giver knew where I lived, but I wasn't stable enough to move either. Even if I was, maybe they could still find me again. Since it's been three years, I'm just now getting back into the swing of things, figuring out how to handle life without my parents. I haven't had any more notes sent to me from the gift giver, so I'm finally beginning to accept that it might be over. Friends I've made along the way have supported me, and it's my 21st birthday now. Another milestone in my life. Maybe it's a brand new beginning. At least, that's what I was hoping for when I woke up this morning. I woke feeling refreshed and excited for the birthday plans I've made. All those plans, my happiness and my hope for the future came crashing down in a mere moment, once again reminding me that I am still and always will be in my own personal horror story. In one moment, I opened my eyes to see a cupcake on my nightstand just like I'd seen in my nightmares, in the same spot with a slip of paper poking out of its icing. Here it was once again. The cupcake was chocolate with crimson red frosting reminding me of the blood from the girl's smashed head. The slip of paper contained one single line. Ready to make some more wishes?