Around the room, a horrendous mutation of the “Happy Birthday Song” started up. Most of the adults tried to keep the rhythm and words, but twenty toddlers drowned them out with shrieks and out of key shouts of “TARA”. After all, it was most likely the only word they knew from the song, if they could speak at all. The birthday girl’s parents exchanged exasperated glances. What had they been thinking? Sealing a bunch of thumb sucking kids, all in their terrible twos, into one room- it was insane, but the joy on their daughter’s face made it bearable.

Tara Symeth- a freckled, frizzy haired girl- had just turned three. She laughed as the climax of her song came to a disastrous ending and spit furiously at the candles. Not wanting to give their guests cake covered in saliva, her parents leaned in from behind and blew out the flames. The girl bounced up and down, gurgling and shouting something about cows. With the cone hat falling off her head, she reached out sausage-like fingers. Before she started shoving fistfuls of pastry at her face (not necessarily her mouth), her dad swooped in and carried it away to be sliced.

“My birf-aye! Kitty, ‘ook! Da appul ‘ooks at me…’ooks…a moose, kitty! Is da cow!”

One of her friends squealed in agreement, cooing and drooling on her fingers. The adults gave Tara a strange look. No one in the room was named Kitty. No one they knew was named Kitty. Was it normal for kids to say that an apple looked at them like a moose? Who even brought up cows? Her mother dabbed some random applesauce off her cheek and kissed her nose.

“What’s there, sweetie? What do you see?” Her voice took on that nonsensical, overly bubbly baby voice. “What’s there, goober?”

Tara stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth and pointed to the plain white ceiling. “Buh-byeeee! Appul, appul!”

The little girl grasped at the air, her gaze focused past everything at the party. Her round eyes followed something around the room and she curled her fingers against nothing. Her mother looked confused. Tara, still muttering, threw herself off the chair and went to stand in front of a bare wall, her hands brushing over the surface. Everyone was watching then, wondering what on earth was going on with the child. She suddenly stopped moving, even stopped breathing, and fell back heavily. To everyone’s horror, her eyes rolled back in her head and her body convulsed. Someone rushed to the phone and punched in 9-1-1.

Our girl had another vision. I’m afraid. People will think she’s insane! I wish…I wish she could tell us what she sees. She’s special-nothing more…No, I don’t think she’s sick…Are you crazy?! I will die a million times over before I see my three-year-old daughter in a mental institution!