I wake up to the sound of Flanna shouting. She's downstairs. What is she doing downstairs? I roll over and look at my clock. What is she doing downstairs, in my house, at four in the morning? And shouting about? I groan and pull myself out of bed. I lumber down the stairs and find Flanna, fully dressed, and grinning from ear-to-ear in my living room.

"Morning! You ready for the festival?" She shouts, and I shake my head. My mouth's too dry to talk.

"Then get ready! I'm making sure you have the funnest day ever!" Funnest isn't a word... "So brush your teeth and wake yourself up! I'm picking your outfit today!" I'm too tired to argue, so I nod and walk back upstairs. Flanna follows me and goes into my room while I go to the bathroom.

When I go back to my room, Flanna has an entire outfit picked out, and is waiting for me patiently.

"Here! Sit down!" She yells, pushing me into the chair in front of my vanity before grabbing a brush. She brushes my hair, and I fight against falling asleep again. That would be rude.

"Okay! Now put on the dress!" Flanna rushes out of the room, slamming the door behind her in her excitement. "Sorry!" She squeaks.

I put on the dress, one of my longer ones. It goes down to my calves, with it's light, layered skirt. It's white, with a sweetheart neckline, and spaghetti straps. There's a light blue sash around the waist, where it stops being form-fitting, the skirt puffs. She also picked out a ring, two gold bracelets, a pair of heart earrings, and some white flats. Flanna has good taste, even if she doesn't use it.

I slip on the shoes and the bracelets and trade out my earrings, then let Flanna back in. She squeals, and jumps up and down, before ushering me back into my seat and doing my makeup.

She doesn't do anything fancy, just some light blue eyeshadow, mascara, and light pink lipstick.

I gotta say, she really is good at this.

Then we make breakfast, and I listen to her chatter on and on about the festival, all the things to look forward to, and gushing about things from previous years. She's really excited that she hasn't seen any shadow creatures recently, usually, she sees about three a day when the Baking Festival comes around.

I guess things really are looking up.

Though, the sudden disappearance of the shadow creatures is unnerving.

At 6, we arrive at the festival. It's huge. They've taken the town square, and filled it with stands and booths, with colorful decorations, from paper chains to fairy lights. There are lanterns, and flowers, and people setting up displays, and racks of baked goods. There are games, and stages for entertainers. People selling paper fans, or good luck charms, jewelry, books. There are advertisements everywhere, with a huge, colorful sign for each booth, proudly declaring what they sell. Foods of all sorts, from all over the world, with family recipes, or brand new ones.

And, at the very end, are four booths, next to a huge stage, all set up with lights, a table, microphones, and speakers. Each booth has intricate paintings all along the sides, and a box out front, with a stack of paper, reading 'Ballots'. It must be how people vote for their favorite.

Flanna rambles on and on about how everything works. Everyone gets one vote per round, and there are different factors. Food is huge, but so is decoration, customer service, and pricing. Make it too low, and it seems like you're being too generous, a bad business practice. And make it too high, and you're greedy. They can also put suggestions for next year on their votes, things like 'I don't think the price was fair for what you gave me', or 'maybe try something that people with allergies can eat'. Of course, none of the other competitors can eat what you made.

This was decided because the Coopers kept doing what others did last year, but better. They can figure out a recipe easy-peasy. After like, ten attempts to make it. And then they make it better.

"I'm sure your Nana's recipe is going to be a hit! People also like to vote based on family heritage, and the meaning behind using that recipe! That's why we put it in the description that we made it to help welcome you into town! To give you a taste of home! The Mandels usually get those votes, though! They have family from all over, so they have all sorts of fun recipes! They made Maamoul last year! It's an Arabian cookie filled with dates! They were so good... I wasn't supposed to eat them, but they had leftovers after the competition, so they let me take a few!"

We come upon Flanna's booth, proudly displaying a sign labeled 'Anderson's Bakery'. It's painted with flowers and butterflies and bees. And out front are trays and trays of flower-shaped chocolate cookies. And beside them a note, propped up on a book-holder.

"Our newest addition to the town, Edlynne, has allowed us to use her grandmother's cookie recipe for the first round of the competition. We hope that this traditional Italian recipe helps her feel more at home in our little town." It's sweet, and I see that a pack of four cookies is 50 cents, and a box, holding about a dozen, is $1.50. The packs of four are wrapped up in little mesh bags, with cloths drawstrings. And the boxes are pretty standard, with 'Anderson's Bakery' printed on the top.

Flanna and I wander around the festival, marveling at everything and eating from every booth, once the festival started at 8. It's incredible. It lasts all day, and when the sun starts to go down, the lanterns and fairy light turn on, bathing the entire festival in their multi-colored splendor. It's incredible.

We run around with all the children, laughing our way to the main stage. Flanna goes to her booth, and chatters excitedly with her parents, as I go to each booth, and buy a cookie, a slice of bread, and a slice of cake from each. I am so full...

That's not going to stop me from eating, though.

I vote for Flanna's cookies, but the Mandel's bread, and the Patterson's cake. I liked the Coopers' food, but there was no story behind it, and it'd be weird if I voted for Flanna's rival. Felt like it would be like a betrayal.

And then the stage lights up. And there're four stoves and counters on it. At the center, a pudgy man in a suit, with a funny hat. He has a sash reading 'MAYOR'. In the usual mayor-stereotype fashion.

"All those who have not cast their votes for the first three rounds, do so now!" He exclaims into the microphone. "The second half is about to commence! May the youngest of each family step up and assume their stations!"