I see a beautifully iced cake. It has delicate piping on the sides and a pile of roses on it. It looks delicious. I hope it's not white cake. Personally, I'm in the mood for chocolate and raspberries.
I approach the cake and see edible family pictures pasted to the side. The family looks happy and normal. My mouth salivates. I'm done looking at the cake. I want to eat a slice.
I take the knife next to the cake and cut into it. As I slice it open, cockroaches skitter out of the cake. What the heck?
Suddenly, the images on the cake are different. The children look afraid and the parents look angry. Why didn't I see their negative emotions earlier?
I cry as I see the family's cake tumble and cockroaches skitter into the wall cracks.
I see remnants of pictures hidden inside the cake. The mother screams obscenities at her children and they cower. The father drags his toddler into another room and lays the toddler on the bed. The toddler screams and the father muffles the screams with a pillow. I have a feeling I know what comes next--not death, but something worse. The mother and father both hit the problem child and the toddler huddles in the corner.
The children grow and they lie and manipulate. They learned this from their parents. They live in fear and they wield fear on others. Some of the children stop the cycle. The world can see what really happened to this family.
The family appeared normal. They iced over the abuse. They made everything look pretty--even enviable. Others wanted to be them, but not anymore.
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