I was in a house that was meant to be my parents' or someone in the family's but it didn't look right at all. There was a family party happening and my mother was rushing around trying to get everything ready. I was supposed to be helping but I didn't know what to do.
I wanted to go to the bathroom but it was only an alcove off the main hallway with a net curtain for privacy, which was not much privacy, so I went in search of another toilet. Next thing I knew the party was in full swing and there were little cousins everywhere. I didn't recognise any of them and couldn't figure out why they were all aged three to eight. I went looking for my mother to ask her if we were at the right party but I couldn't find her.
I saw my uncle George down a hallway but by the time I got to where he'd been he'd gone. His wife was there, though, but she looked like she did 15 years ago and she didn't move. After a bit I discovered she was a wax dummy.
I went through a doorway that should have taken me to the laundry but instead I was outside in courtyard I'd never seen before. A lot of the kids and some of the adults were sitting around eating cake and opening presents. My mother said I should "go vacuum the fireplace room, and do the washing up". I whined about having to wash up and said couldn't I do it in the morning? She said no, it had to be done right then because they were running out of plates.
I went and found "the fireplace room" (a lounge room with a bricked-off fireplace) and started picking up streamers and broken chips and things off the floor. Two of the little cousins were screaming and fighting and I stood on some of the furniture to avoid them.
I found all the dishes stacked in a room that had no sink so I was looking for the kitchen. My aunt Marta came along and started telling me off for being lazy and ungrateful and not helping my mother. I couldn't stop staring at her lipstick which was very bright red and didn't suit her at all. After a while she assumed I was drunk or just stupid and swore at me and went away.
I started carrying around some of the dirty plates so it would look like I was doing something. Out on a lawn I saw one of my exes and one of my ex-flatmates and went to ask what they were doing there (hoping they hadn't married into the family). The ex was drinking beer and being his usual obnoxious self and tried to feel me up. I dropped the stack of plates on his foot and sat on the lawn to do up my shoelaces.
Next I was back in the fireplace room, standing with a group of people to have our photo taken. I was right in front of the ex-flatmate who is only a little bit taller than me. "Move along, [phish]," he whispered. I assumed that meant I was blocking the view of his goatee or something and moved a bit to the side. He gave me a shove and I stumbled across the room. When I turned around I saw he was snogging a girl who wasn't his sort at all -- very corporate and sleek and everything. She saw me looking and sneered at me.
I started looking at photos on the mantelpiece, hoping to recognise at least one of the relatives other than George and Marta, but all the photos were of child cousins in pretty clothes, obviously posed studio shots.
Then I was back outside and there were streamers and wrapping paper and discarded things everywhere. All the little cousins had been picked up by their parents (who either weren't at the party or had been hiding in another part of the house) and my mother was bitching about the mess. I started picking things up because I didn't want to be ungrateful and horrid but she grabbed me and made me sit on the coffee table (the only thing I recognised) and said, "Talk to your uncle George, there's a good girl. He's got to go to Devisar tomorrow for six months." I was quite happy to talk to George but when I looked at him it was my half-brother and he looked angry/disgusted and wouldn't talk to me.
Later I was finally able to get on with picking up the detritus and I was collecting all the placename tags, wrapping paper and cards that the little cousins had left behind. Somehow I realised everybody at the party except me had been given a present. I simultaneously thought, "It's just as well I'm old enough not to care." and "That's not fair!" and started to cry. Some people came into the room and I tried to pretend I'd stubbed my toe but they knew better and one of the women said, "That's what you get for being ungrateful. Nobody will ever love you and nobody will ever give you presents."
