Note: Warnings for mentions of death
"Make a wish, darling," his mum whispered, looking at him with a bright gleam in her eye.
A large cake sat in between Piers and his mother on the picnic table. It was a two layer, chocolate cake with blue frosting covering it completely: his favourite. A single candle sat in the centre of the cake, its flame glowing brightly.
Piers gave his mother a toothy grin before closing his eyes and blowing out the candle with his mum.
This was a tradition of theirs every year because their birthdays were on the same day. Yeah, he was a bit 'old' for it according to his friends, but all he had for family was his mum so this was their special thing. Anyone who said otherwise would be beaten to a pulp with wedgies on the regular.
As their tradition goes, his mum would make the cake, and Piers would buy the candle. Afterwards, they would meet at the park with the cake and candle and celebrate the rest of the night there no matter what.
Each time, they would blow the candles out together, never speaking of the wish they'd make, but it didn't matter. In their hearts, they had everything they could ever wish for.
Until the next year to come.
Piers sat at the picnic table, waiting for his mum to arrive. The other kids were still outside and playing with one another. His friend Dudley offered to push one of the other kids off the swing so they could play and wait together, but Piers refused. His mum could be there any minute, and he didn't want any distractions.
So he sat there at the table, tapping the candle on the wooden surface and waiting for his mum. Piers couldn't think of the worst just yet, but he was starting to get concerned. He bit his lip when he saw the authorities pull up to the park, hoping that his best mate hadn't gotten in trouble for something.
Except the uniformed men were coming towards him. Piers sat up straight–as straight as his lankiness would allow–and gripped the candle in his hand.
"Officers," he addressed them as they took off their caps.
"You're Vivian Polkiss' kid, Piers, right?" one of them said.
Piers nodded dumbly. "That's me. Is everything...all right?"
The authorities looked at one another before the second officer scratched his cheek.
"I'm afraid we have some bad news, Piers," he said, clutching his hat. "There's been an accident near the grocery store."
Piers' eyes flickered back between the officers, biting his lip again. He had to try his hardest not to break the candle in his hand as they spoke. Everything around him was slowing down, blurring together. 'Car wreck', 'Dead on arrival', and 'Sorry' were the only things that Piers had heard in the officers' explanations. He didn't know if he wanted to process anything.
His body grew numb, but he felt his head turn away from the older men while he choked out a sob.
His mum wasn't coming to celebrate their birthday.
After he was given the news of her death, he was told to come by the morgue the next day to make arrangements. He'd turned eighteen today; he was considered an adult now to make that decision.
Piers sat in the living room of their–his–home and stared at the cupcake placed on the table. He'd been given it in consolation for the cake he wasn't going to get. His mum was gone and it was all because some wanker couldn't properly drive.
He'd hate them, but not tonight. He had a celebration to finish.
He placed the candle he'd kept safe in the frosting on the cupcake, striking a match to light it. Its flame danced in his eyes, its perkiness reciprocating the somberness of the situation.
"Happy birthday, Mum," Piers whispered, sniffing and wiping under his nose. This was still their day, and there was no way in hell he was not going to see it through. She would want him to see it through.
Tears cascaded down his cheeks and his lips trembled as the candlelight flickered on the cupcake.
"Make a wish, Piers," he said to himself.
And then, he closed his eyes and blew out the candle. When the smoke filled his nose, Piers opened his eyes; the ache in his chest wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. And for the first time, he spoke his birthday wish aloud.
"I wish I had my mum back."
A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments) and The Houses Competition
(THC) House: Gryffindor; Year/Position: Year 4; Category: Drabble; Prompt: [Theme] Family
(HSWW) Assignment #9 Arts & Crafts Task 9: write about receiving news
Word Count: 750