The sun’s last rays cast blood-red on Sipher’s pleated skirt, skirting the leather trim as if her skirt weren’t hideous enough already. The sun flickered patiently, as did the first flecks of stars. As Sipher reached the cypress, the border of outstretched branches barricaded the dying sun. Her hair was caressed by an overhang of red-orange leaves as she ducked under a sagging branch.
Today was Sipher’s birthday, and it was easily the least enjoyable yet. Her parents had flown out chasing their global achievements, leaving with “expect mail from us” as a token of farewell, but so far they’d only sent back an offcut of disintegrating birthday cake with a lonesome fondant dollop and a moldy crust developing on the borders. Her friends had promised they’d celebrate with her, but they’d ghosted, too. The low-standard birthday party Sipher arranged was vacant despite her invitations being distributed three weeks in advance. Not a soul had offered birthday wishes, except her parents, along with…well, the moldy thing that Sipher preferred she didn’t think about.
She’d figured a leisure walk through her favorite trail, Kryptik Peninsula, would suffice, but evidently, it wasn’t. The weight of her unspoken troubles cast long shadows on what was supposed to be an escape from her birthday issues. As she pursued the trail, it wove further into the heart of the cypress grove, as opposed to the observation point on the peninsula that she typically sought serenity in. Instead, the cypress canopy proceeded to surrender to a river lookout. Sipher embraced the solitude of the quiet trickle of the river as the water jarred over pebbles, and the distant calls of unseen critters, scuttling into the defense of shadows as Sipher approached. A pod of reckless dolphins spewing water out of their blowholes mid leap out of the water flecked Sipher in countless water prisms.
Sipher pinched the palm of her hand to assure herself she wasn’t in an alternate reality, then jolting backwards into a tree trunk as the pain infused her body.
Sipher vaulted seamlessly over a supine birch, she advanced into a stretch of everglade. It offered an unlimited supply of sawgrass prairies.
“Seriously,” she thought, “Where am I? I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in sawgrass prairies. Did I really have to get lost? And on my birthday, of all days?”
Eventually the civic sunset ebbed, and Sipher embraced the gauzy silhouettes that descended over the everglade until a brisk wind with the essence of winter on toll fluttered around her. The mist produced blurry illusions, appearing to be frothing in chaotic circles, while the thick swirls actually revolved around a thin scrap of fog, together swathing the everglade in ominous darkness. A figure tiptoed out of the churning clouds, impelling Sipher’s attention. Sipher yelped in alarm.
“Fear not, child,” the figure’s chin was illuminated by a crackling hearth, yelling its lungs out as it set ablaze the firewood around it. “I am no stranger to you. Follow me and I will lead you to the serenity you wish to be in. Do you fancy a cup of matcha tea and a nice, long chat about your unpleasant birthday?”
“H-how do you know?” Sipher gaped. “I didn’t tell a soul about my…um, unpleasant birthday.”
“I know things, child. Or should I say, Sipher?”
“Hey! How do you know my name? And who even are you?”
“Oh, but I said, I know things. And again, if you follow me; I can lead you to the peninsula that always serenades you,” the cloaked figure crooned over the roaring bonfire.
“Did you ever have parents that told you, ‘Never follow strangers’?” Sipher asked.
“I did not,” he said, matter-of-factly. “But that’s not important. If you won’t follow me, I have more important things to do than playing ‘let’s argue’ with a depressed twelve year old girl.”
He proceeded to pivot around, but Sipher yelled after him, “Wait! Actually, take me to the Peninsula, please. At least I know how to get home from there.”
“Child, did you not just say ‘never follow strangers’? Are you sure you trust a hooded figure so much to follow them through the everglades at past civic sunset when there is no light but a beacon in the sky?”
“Do you want me to come with you or not? Literally a few seconds ago you told me to come with you.” Sipher paused before adding, “I know your hood may be misleading, but I think you’re a pretty nice guy, actually.”
Sipher could tell her choice of wording caught the figure off-guard, through a minor jolt in their hood, as if to say, “Huh, I didn’t think that twelve year old child would say that.”
“The hood was poor clothing choice on my part, then. But I don’t suppose your clothing is much better than mine,” the figure snickered, “But, we’re wasting time right now. Do you want to go to Kryptik Peninsula or not?”
Prior to Sipher answering with “Yes, I do”, a dozen more hooded individuals melted out of the shadows.
Sipher calculated the difference in mere seconds between retrieving her phone for assistance and lashing out at the cloaked figures.
Her brain was so engrossed in the computing process that she remained oblivious to the thousand-layer cake the figures held. Nor did she see the banner suspended over the figures’ cloaks, adorning them in bedazzled material.
She estimated attacking the figures would be quicker.
So, Sipher leapt out of her stance, she outstretched her hands, bracing for the impact. But instead she pursued thin air.
The cloaked figures had maneuvered her blow.
Sipher collided with the earth.
Upon Sipher’s ascent from the sawgrass meadow, she caressed the leather trim on her skirt though her bloodshed knees clearly required more attention.
The cloaked figures cast sympathetic glances at Sipher’s scarred skin.
Unbeknownst her, these cloaked figures were her friends in disguise.
They violently tore away the black fabric concealing their faces, and to Sipher’s sheer bliss, they chorused, “Happy birthday!”