Today is the day of the Flower Festival. It’s a day of celebration for our island. Once a year, we adorn our houses with flowers. We hold banquets in the streets. We hold dances well into the night.

And of course, we choose a Flower Queen.

This year, my little sister was chosen.

They came early in the morning. They They place a wreathe of flowers on her head. They take her out onto the streets.

It’s her special day.

They parade her through the centre of town. The villager gather around her, cheering. They lay roses in her path, offer her lilacs, tulips, sunflowers. She probably just loves the attention.

She’s too young to understand.

Eventually, they reach the podium in the town square. They take my little sister up, and she stands before crowd, smiling.

My mother starts crying. She tries to cover my eyes but I push her away.

They tie my sister to the podium. My mother tries to break through the crowd, but the villagers hold her back.

She’s so ungrateful.

I watch as they carry the torch to the podium and ignite it. The smile quickly fades from my little sisters face as she’s engulfed in flames. Her screams are drowned out as the villagers chant in prayer.

For a brief moment, the ground shakes. Then it stops. The villagers raise their hands to the sky in thanks. The Sleeping One is pleased. Our island is safe for another year.