Es loco how fast time goes.  It feels like I was five years old not so long ago. When I was five, ma famille et moi  moved to Montpellier, France from San Juan, Puerto Rico, where I was born. Today, I turn nine years old. The end of an old era is near. I look out my window and the sky is covered with grey clouds as white dust like particles fill the near distance. I spot flurries getting lost in the wind, falling on the dead tree branches and the mud-green grass.
The pale grey clashes with my bright confetti skin, consisting of enough colors to form a rainbow. My sclera contains a similar color to the snows cotton-wool like pigmentation, which stands out from the rainbow effect of my epidermis, yet my hazel-blue iris nearly unifies with my skin. I, personally, am not a fan of candy, as that is considered cannibalism. Why would I want to eat my families and relatives insides?
Knock knock.
“Mija , hurry up! Just about everyone is here! Cybele, your Novia, Dominique, is asking how much longer you’re going to take.”
“Just one more minute mama. I’ll be right there.” I respond as I put on my sparkly crown with silver-clear jewels lying across my tiara. I take a quick look in the mirror to make sure everything looks right. I’m wearing a poofy ivory-creamy dress with little sea blue-clear rhinestones that cover the top portion of the dress.
  I hear everyone shouting “Bon Anniversaire!”, “!Feliz Cumpleaños!” and “Happy birthday!” and everyone applauding as I head down the stairs. Dominique comes running towards me in joy! “Bon Anniversaire, baby!” I rush to greet and thank everyone for coming. As I finish up, I quickly go off as the others start to socialize.
As I walk down the steps to the basement to see Georgina, I notice that her hands are tied tightly together with a thick three-layers of rope, nearly stopping her blood circulations.
In my family, each year, about three months before my birthday, my parents find the “perfect” human to torment on my birthday. I tend to keep my distance from them, as I get emotionally attached to another individual, no matter the species. As much as I tried, she was such a gentle, genuine person, who I ended up becoming friends with, though she knew her fate.
“I want to see you one last time. I’m sorry, but it’s a family tradition. You’ve always supported me and I truly appreciate it, but you know this must be done. I love you... Georgina.” I state as a single teardrop rolls down my face.
I walk back to my birthday fiesta.  “Where’d you run off to? We’re about to start.” my mother whispers into my ear as everyone turns to get ready to sing me happy birthday. “Joyeux Anniversaire. Joyeux Anniversaire. Joyeux Anniversaire, Cybele. Joyeux Anniversaire.” I blow out the candles as everyone starts to applaud. My mother starts to give everyone a slice of cake.
  Is there any way I can delay it?! Think, damn it. THINK! Crap, my mother! Of course, she’ll do anything to skip to the tradition.  “And now, it’s time for the children’s favorite part. Time to get the treats out of the human!” I normally am never this emotionally attached to any human, especially those who I have to brutally torture and murder on my special day. Luckily, this is the last year I’ll ever have to do it.
By the time everyone finishes up their cake, Georgina is already hung by her hands from the ceiling in the living room. Her beautiful dark-brown hair swinging in the air. Her dark brown eyes turn red as she starts to tear up. I hear my mother calling me. “Cybele. Here’s the bat.” I grab it hesitantly. All I can hear are the cries of my past victims. The spikes on the metal look sharper than any other year. The blood from the other victims still remains, some of it starting to rust along with the old metal.
Mi padre puts a blindfold over my eyes. I shake as I attempt to beat Georgina. I don’t have it in me. Trembling, sweating, with tears cover by the blindfold, I purposely miss. I hear the pain of Georgina’s tears and breathing. I wipe away the tears as I remove the blindfold. I see all the other piñatas looking excited, awaiting their turn. I can’t believe I could ever do this. This is wrong!
“Dominique? Would you like to take the next swing?” Mi Madre asks. Dominique takes the bat from my mother. I could tell just by her facial expression how excited she is. I look away as soon as she gets the blindfold on. Dominique, of course, doesn’t miss. She never does. She’s the best at everything. All I can currently hear over my pounding heart is Georgina’s loud, sharp, terrified cry and the happiness from everyone else. I look back to see how bad it is. All I see is dark-red blood oozing from her stomach and legs. I attempt to walk out of the room with a heart that feels physically broken, like glass shattering and falling into a trillion pieces, as I continually hear Georgina’s agony and the spikes from the back, slashing into her. Tears rolling down my face as I run out, it’s completely silent. Then all of a sudden, everyone screaming with joy and excitement. I look back only to find Dominique and the others face being stuffed with fresh organs, like her liver and kidneys. From the ceiling, all you could see is dark-red, nearly black looking blood gushing out of Georgina like a fountain. The floor, starting to flood up with blood. I can’t bare this. I could have prevented this, but no! Of course, I wanted to be a puta and not do anything about it. You stupid idiot, Cybele! I realize that everyone is acting hyper and crazy. I try and gather everyone’s attention.
“This is terrible! How could you brutally hurt another living thing?! You all are crazy! Georgina was better than all of you!”
“It’s just payback to what her kind has done to our people.” I hear someone claim.
“That doesn’t make it okay!”
“Have some organs. They’re delicious.”
“No. That’s sick!”
Dominique attempts to shove some organs in my mouth. My mouth and nose are covered. I can’t brea -.
I.. I don’t recall how long I’ve been knocked out for. As I regain my conscious, I slowly open my eyes only to see blood all over the floor, on the furniture and smears across my face and the voices of children screaming and running around. I look around, still on the floor, and observe that they’ve gone mad. They’re all chasing each other around with knives covered in blood. I can’t think of anything but my past victims and their pain. I... I… can’t take it anymore… I don’t want to live in a world like this. I rapidly stand up and rush over to the kitchen. Georgina… Alexandria… Carson… Gabriel… Vanessa… Xavier… Pila… Freddy… Zayn… This is for you guys. I grab a knife reluctantly… Slowly, I start cutting… All I see is all this candy coming out of me… Next thing I know is -.