Charmed, I'm sure.

“Write about a character living a seemingly charmed life.”

The birds are taking a while bringing me my shoes.

Last time, Connor forgot what he was doing and brought my nicest slipper to his nest. I swear, if he didn’t have Theodosia around to set him straight, he’d fly into the sun with the morning milk. I sigh, and twirl my way down the stairs to the kitchen, where my sun streaked blue walls smile a “good morning” at me. I brush my red hair out of my face and sing a pleasant song as I prepare my morning porridge, and the rabbits carry the milk from outside. I rush to my round door and twist its brass knob, eager to catch Danny on his way out. I see his silhouette walking out of my garden, his tilted hat bouncing on his brown hair. “Danny!” I call, leaning against my door frame. I flutter my eyelashes at him and shyly wring my pale hands. He turns and tips his hat to me, his jolly smile never fading. I clutch my heart and slide down to the ground, where the rabbits at my feet roll their eyes at my dramatics. “Oh stop it, you,” I chastise Flopper. “You’ve never been in love!” I wander my way back to my porridge and sit. Danny is the only boy I’ve met, but I just know we’re meant to be.

***

“VAR.310.DAN deactivated. Stability 97%.” I exhale and slide back in my seat, sweat sliding down my brow. I wipe it away so my monitor is undamaged, and turn to face The Producer with a forced smile. “Natasha still hasn’t exited the main house.” The Producer smiles, and turns his attention to the rest of the room. “Good. Emily?” I see one of my coworkers, in charge of maintaining the upkeep of shrubbery on set, straighten her back and turn to The Producer. “Yes, s-sir?”

“Good thinking with the injured bird last week. She won’t abandon it.” His smile morphs into a displeased frown. “I don’t like that we have to worry about her leaving these days.” He turns to Megan next to me. “Megan, how is the progress on The Town going?” Even in the darkness of the room, I see her shudder. “We’re at 92 percent completion. I’ll have the final kinks worked out by tonight.” He seems pleased. “Very well.” And with that, we’re alone again. I exhale and slump down, oblivious to the waving coming two seats across from me. Finally, Megan taps my shoulder. I jump. “Matt, Oliver wants to see you.” I head over to Oliver’s seat in the semicircle of monitors and keyboards. “What is it?” I hiss. “Oliver is shaking like a leaf. “I- I- I...” I steady him. He breathes in, and looks up at me. “I forgot 2 of the bottles of milk in the milk crate.” 

***

I don’t think I drank the milk that fast. But it’s only Thursday, and I don’t have a single drop of milk left in my icebox. “How can this be?” I ask the mice that I hold gently in my hands. “What will I do without milk to cool my morning porridge, or to bake with?” One of the mice squeaks. “Oh no, Christopher, I couldn’t do that.” I get off of the floor where I’m kneeling and pace. “I could buy a cow… No, no, I can’t do that... I could… I could..”

A thought sparks inside of me. I lift up my chin and wave a finger in the air. “I know! I’ll go into town!” I cover my mouth as soon as I’ve said it. “Oh, no, I can’t. Well, can I? I suppose there’s nothing there that will hurt me. And Danny is there.” I bashfully flutter my eyes. “I suppose that’s that, then! Off I go!” I rush off to my room to get ready.

***

“WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY!?” The Producer is furious. “Okay, okay, people, we’ve got 10 minutes to do this thing. Megan, please tell me you’ve finished The Town. Megan pales. “Nine-Ninety eight percent, sir. If we do another Time Skip-” He cuts her off. “No, she’s too focused to stop her now. 98 is good enough. Jeff? Load it in.” The whole room turns to watch as Megan approaches Jeff with a large, shiny black box. Jeff takes it and returns to his work. Everyone else turns and looks to their own computer, analyzing whatever needs to be analyzed. I focus on The Producer. His olive skin shines with the reflection of the monitored room, and his dark eyes are fixated on the huge TV that shows the footage we’re rolling on live TV. “Ad break.” He mutters, milliseconds before the “We’ll be right back to Natasha’s Neighborhood in a minute, right after this commercial. Gandrey’s- The Best Grape Juice You’ve Ever Heard Of. It’s The Grapest!”

His attention turns back to us, and I spin back around and type furiously. It looks like Natasha is heading out. “Increase DayLite 13%.” I mumble, typing the command in. The sky around her lightens ever so slightly as she steps into The Town.

***

“Oh, wow!” The town is more beautiful than I ever could’ve imagined. Horses pull carriages along the stone tiles that ring a glorious fountain. People in their nicest attire mill about, perusing shops and chatting. I almost forget why I’m here, until I see Danny. Danny. My heart leaps out of my chest. “Danny!” I call, and I run to him. He turns with as happy a smile as ever. “Well, hello there, Natasha!” His voice sounds like honey. I almost melt in adoration. “Look at you, out and about!” I giggle. 

His smile stops for a brief second, and his eyes seem cloudy. Suddenly, he begins to talk in a lowered voice, and his smile doesn’t touch his eyes. “I’m sorry, Natasha, I think I only gave you four bottles of milk.” He stiffly reaches into his bag and hands me two bottles. “There you go.” He slumps, and I rush to catch him. Then he stands up and gives me his happy old smile. “Well, hello there, Natasha!” 

I’m terrified. I’ve heard of amnesia, but I had no idea people could be affected so quickly by it. But it’s Danny, and he’s so pleasant again I forget it instantly. “Danny, do you know where I could buy some apples?” I’ve been yearning for apple pie, and I rarely ever get flour or apples delivered. “Right over there!” He points at a cute stand selling its wares in barrels. A large, happy man with a gray beard and a bit of wheat in his mouth is running it. I wink at Danny, and skip over to the farmer. “Hello, sir, how much for a bag of apples?” I ask. He gives me a warm smile and hands me a bag. “For you, miss, they’re free. Enjoy!” I gush at the heartfelt gesture and trot over to a woman in a long red dress with a purple hat. She’s facing away from me. 

I reach out and tap her shoulder. “Ma’am, do you know where I could purchase some flou-”

She turns around to look at me. But there’s no eyes, mouth, nose or anything at all on her face. Just a mass of rainbow squares that are constantly spinning in and out. I scream.

***

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?” The Producer shrieks in rage and mops his brow. “MEGAN, YOU ARE FIRED.” Megan almost seems relieved. She begins to gather her things. “MATT!” I flinch. “I want you to press The Button. Olivia.” Olivia is shivering so hard her whole chair is vibrating. “Send in REPLACE.7.BRU.” “Yes, sir!” We say in unison, but clearly neither of us want to finish our task. Regardless, I reach into my shoe and pull out the silver key I hide in it every morning. I insert the key in the faintly glowing yellow slot, and twist hard. A loud pop! goes off as the plastic case that covers The Button snaps backwards. I hold my breath, and I slam my fist down on the red plastic. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

***

I drop all of my groceries and run home. The lady mumbles something in a broken voice, but it’s muted by the glass milk bottles shattering and the apples tumbling. I hurry back to my gate, back to my garden, and back to my house. I slam the door shut and breathe. I’m okay. The words aren’t convincing. I steady myself, and head to the counter to wash my hands. Then the door flies open.

***

“Anna!” My mom calls for the third time. “Come set the table!” 

“In a minute!” I yell back. I turn back to the TV screen, where Natasha has slammed the door shut. The last 30 minutes of the show have been absolutely insane. Bridgette, my little sister, is crying in her room after the lady with no face turned around. But I’m intrigued.

“ANNA!” oops. I get up and run into the kitchen, grabbing plates and napkins. “Finally!” My mom is in her cooking frenzy again. I hear her mutters as I pick out the silverware. “Stir the sauce, dry the noodles…”

No one is in the room to see Natasha’s red door fly open, to see men and women dressed all in black drag her out of her house. Nobody watches the ad for mac and cheese after.

I come back in and flop back on the carpet, right as the ad break ends. Natasha looks completely different. Her voice is higher, and her hair is blonde. I wonder what happened.