Paper Clip. Whipped Cream. Knife.
A/N-Yum! The first thought that ran through my head was about the whipped cream, of course. I picture myself cutting a cake, and licking the cream off the knife...whoops! I cut myself. Ugh, whatever. For Mademoiselle Etincelle.
Wait...I'll try something new. This is going to be written in first person, from Sinead's point of view.
I pulled the blanket close to myself, unwilling to get up. My auburn hair was not in a ponytail like it usually was, but open, falling over my face. As usual, an invention was running through my head-this time, I was pondering over a fold-able knife made out of paper clips. It would come in handy.
And then I noticed the bright lights outside my window, the holly decorations on the quaint little houses, Ned and Ted having a snowball fight, as Ned got one of his headaches and fell down. I could barely look at him that way; it made my heart ache.
It was Christmas.
But obviously, my Christmas wasn't going to be as nice as it usually was. I'd betrayed the Cahills...
Six presents waited for me under my bed. Two from Ned and Ted, three from my parents and uncle, and one from...Amy.
Most of them were books and movie DVD's, but Amy's was a box of cookies and a fudge cake. It was perfectly backed, the texture, icing, everything. Except for one thing...the whipped cream.
I wasn't going to eat it right away. I had a few things to do.
I had to give Amy something in return. The perfect Cahill surprise.
"Poetry!" Ned exclaimed. "You're a lot of things, Sinead, but we didn't know you could write poetry so well. And if you're adding the music, it'll be awesome!"
"Thanks", I said. "Oh, and Merry Christimas!"
I glanced down at the papers in my hand. Then, I pinned them together with a paper clip.
You're the perfect one,
The one we've all been waiting for,
And yes, it's transformed you,
It's done the same thing to me too,
But as you smile, so perfectly,
I feel a shred of guilt,
Oh, yes, I can't repay you,
But I hope you'll forgive me soon.
I try, my level best,
To make this surprise'Cahillesque',
A song, a re-frosted cake,
Returned to you with best,
Take this paper-clip made knife
And use it for your own,
And dance, with all adrenaline,
May all branches be yours to own. (A/N-In my head, this was buzzing to the tune of 'Ultimate', from Freaky Friday, but the reader may alter the tune to whatever he/she wants)
I hope this reminds you of the branches! The sweet-potioned, re-frosted cake, knife, song, and the dance you'll hopefully be doing with me, though we won't be at the same place. I miss you, Amy.
~Sinead
I looked at the paper. Then, I recorded the song and kept the tape, sliced cake and paper-clip knife on Amy's table. I also added the special whipped cream Amy had forgotten to add, the one the two of us had invented and always added onto our cakes before we served them. Hopefully, Amy would remember the happy times we had together, before I spoilt it all.
"Merry Christmas, Amy."
A/N-Done. It was short, but it is a one-shot. Please review!
~Grass-Berry09
P.S-I love whipped cream.