(August '16) Prompt #3- "Birthday"

[Kris]

August's 3rd prompt is "Birthday"



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[m139]

Birthday

It was her birthday. As she walked into the dinning hall, all her fellow students stood up and started cheering. Finally, a voice broke through, and the required "happy birthday" song was sung by all assembled. She smiled as a cake was brought out, and carefully blew out all twenty one candles. And what followed was the normal slaps on the backs, congratulation and all, as she went over to her usual dinnertime table.

Normally, there was one, maybe two other people here. This was the table where those who generally avoided the society of the others sat, or where those temporarily banned from there friend group sat. However, for her, this was her normal spot. It was not that she could not move up to some better spot, she had been invited multiple times, but this was where she chose to sit. Once, a group of people, trying to get her to join them, had invaded her table before she sat. They, and the rest of the watching students, had learned that technique would not work, either. She had proceeded to sit at that group's usual table.

She was a mystery to the other students, that was sure. She never talked much in any of her classes, and half the time it seemed like she was not paying any attention, but got extremely good grades. The younger teachers seemed to be incredibly annoyed with her, and were always trying to catch her off guard by asking her questions. Usually, though, she was able to answer them. And when she was not, and they berated her in front of the class, and told her she would flunk out or such, she maintained eye contact, appeared, at least, to be listening, and nodded her head. But it was always as if she was somewhere else. And as soon as the lecture was open, she would return to her usual half paying attention state. And as for the older teachers, a few of them responded to her in this same way. But there were also those who would just pretend they did not notice her lack of activity during class. The only time they ever talked to her was after class, asking her to meet in their office. And what they talked about, no one knew. The door was always closed behind her, and only muffled voices could be heard.

No one knew where she came from, either. She had said she had graduated her previous school in a small class, but that was all they ever learned about her high school. Some of her fellow students had scoured multiple yearbooks, some had typed her name in the web, but no one ever found out exactly where she had been before here. Some theorized that by "very small class" that she was homeschooled, others guessed that it was some tiny ritzy foreign school. They had posited these theories before her, but she never, ever, even nodded to tell them it was not true. And of course, she would not reveal any more than she had said.

As for friends, well, if she ever had a conversation with anyone, you could bet that those who were really interested in this mysterious student were grilling the other afterwards. But all they ever learned was that she was much more of a listener and confidant than one who told their own story.

Gradually, attempts lessened. But that did not mean that an opportunity, especially one such as a twenty-first birthday, would be wasted. And she, apparently knowing there was no way to avoid this, had sat amongst the group of the most curious of all.

She looked at each face on the table, as she cut the cake and served it to each one, as well as to others who were coming to the table to grab a slice and wish her well. There was no one who she was used to sharing a meal with here- they probably had all been scared away unintentionally by all these people. To her, though, it was no real matter. She was not part of these regulars, either. She had only sat at this table because they were not constantly bombarding her with questions. She knew quite a bit about their lives- most of them would talk, given the chance- but they knew little of hers. Still, she smiled when they came to get wish her well with the others.

Others came after, and gradually the size of the cake diminished. Small talk was given with the exchanging of the cake, and well wishes and smiles were poured out upon her. In return, she smiled, too, full of "thank you"s and "here's a slice just for you"s.

Finally, though, the cake was fully dispersed. She sat down completely, and the person next to her slapped her on the back as she did so. "So," he said, mentally deciding to start it out easy, "How's it feel to be twenty one?"

"I'd tell you if I was twenty-one." she responded, with a straight face, lifting her eyes to his very briefly before they returned to the piece of cake that was her own.

In response, the table laughed. "What?" cried out one, his voice full of amusement, "how old are you then."

By now, she had broken off a bit of cake with her fork, and was inspecting it before putting it in her mouth. She could see the little flecks of green frosting on it.

"One hundred and thirty six- no- seven. It is my birthday." She said this all while looking at her cake, in even tone, and with a straight face. After completing her statement, she examined the piece of cake for a moment more, and then brought it into her mouth and began to chew, her eyes now drifting to the empty fork.

Around her, the whole entire table began to laugh, even those who were frustrated by her attempt to change everything into a joke.

But it was not a joke. She, out of everyone surrounding her, knew that what she said was the truth. But they could not know. They could never know the painful truth, the reason she was always silent. The only truth that she could be given to them would be given as lies. That was the way it had to be. There was no other way.

[Kris]

Good morning to you. This is the start of your new life.

Today for the first time you will see the light bursting into your bubbles, as you are torn from the comfort of your life so far. No long will you be provided, no longer you will be protected. It will no longer be warm, it no longer will be enjoyable.

Good morning to you. This is the start of your new life.

From here on out, you will hear for yourself and see for yourself. Walk for yourself and smell for yourself. You will touch, and experience this new world by yourself, for yourself. If you are lucky.

If you are lucky and your senses are not damaged enough to prevent you from experiencing what this world has to offer.

And they will come around you.

If you can hear them.

Faces.

If you can see them.

Touches.

If you can feel them.

And they will demand from you so much. They will want your smile, they will want your embrace, they will want your heart, and they will want your health.

Good morning to you. This is the start of your new life.

You will learn quickly enough, that this world is full of pain. You will cry, and your own screams will torment you and scare you even more. They will beat you to hear your pain. The will need to see your tears. Just to know that you are alive, that you are responding. They will need to make sure you can feel how horrible this world is.

And the world is horrible. It is missing. It is missing all the things that you were used to have. You will starve, you will thirst, you will have to breathe on your own, and every step of the way, with that idea pending into your mind, you will fear you approaching oblivion.

Because you will be forced on your own. You will be forced to scream out and announce your desires. Without them you will be lost and forgotten under the sun. If you are lucky.

Good morning to you. This is the start of your new life.

And you will fall. You will fall so many times. You will triple on yourself, and miss your steps. You will cause yourself pain, as there will be no direct guideline as to what you can and can't do. And honestly, no one ever believes in delivering it to you like before. They want you to experience this world on your own. And moreover, they want you to hurt, to fail, to cry.

They need your tears to know that you are alive.

It's already noon, the first day of your new life.

They are so happy. Why are they so happy? they are beyond themselves, and happy and you can't comprehend them. Things are so much different form before. It is familiar but strange all together. You can't hold yourself from knowing exactly why. What brought the change, and if the knowledge of it was a welcoming bliss or horrible outcome of something you didn't wish to have.

Why are they happy? Why are they so happy?

As you were turn away from something so good, everything was there and was provided, but you are now missing. So much missing. You feel something. Something beating, something pumping up within you, and you realize you are alive because of it, but that thing is also the cause to all this suffering.

It's already noon, the first day of your new life.

You will need to learn everything from the start again. Everything that you saw will be forgotten, everything that you used to have will be exhausted.

But they are so happy that you joined them. They wanted you among them. Even though you were so close to perfection, even though you had it all, and was content.

It's already noon, the first day of your new life.

Curses and damnations. To be turn form the good and to learn the meaning of evil. Walking, talking, hearing, touching... missing... longing.... having to know that they are waiting for you to cry, to respond.

To know that you are alive.

And they are all around you, but that's only a show. They are here for the moment, but not for long. For soon enough you will be forced on your own. You will be forced to scream out and announce your desires. Without them you will be lost and forgotten under the sun. If you are lucky.

Because unlike before, in your warm forgotten bliss, right now, they can't hear your thoughts, to know exactly what is on your mind. You need to fight for everything, no one will win the wars for you. You will need to learn to reject others and do things for yourself. Because good deeds are easily forgotten, and people close to you once, will soon forget you and move on.

This is life. This is the life you were born into. and again. This is the start of you new life. Again.

It's already dark on the start of your new life.

And you can hear whispers from the beyond. The beyond you left behind when you were forced into this world. And once again when you were brought back.

It's already dark on the start of your new life.

Just a little more, the clock is ticking, along with all the machines that tick beside you and heralding your presence.

It's already dark on the start of your new life.

And the faces are gone. Everything that was around you, is now gone. Once again. This new life is all the same. Beating, pumping, ticking. Machine and heart, it's all the same. Nothing is as it seems to be, and everything will be soon be forgotten.

Is there really something new? is there really something pure like love? Do people really care? do they really want you to be alive.

Maybe it's time to wait... wait till it all stops... a world of silence and good.

It's time to stop...

So you can start your new life.

Again.