Bad Birthday By Ashton

Tuesday, May 15, 2018. This was my birthday, and no one cared. My teacher had forgotten, even though she had it on her calendar. My friends didn’t say anything, they didn’t even remember. My family would celebrate on a different day, because we were “to busy.”This wasn’t just any birthday, this was my tenth birthday, double digits, and every one either didn’t care or didn’t remember. I was in a dress, even though I hate dresses, why? Because it was my Dad’s work party, everyone thought this was the big thing today, not me, not a human being’s special day. A student, a friend, a daughter, that no one cared about. I started wiping the tears from my eyes. I hated crying. Today was awful, too awful. I let the tears fall. A trickle, a stream, a river of sadness, in which I was drowning. Past the point of ever coming to a even ok day. The salty tears stung. My Mom had noticed.

“Ashton, you’re fine. There is nothing wrong. You have no reason to cry.” Easy for her to say. She always has a perfect birthday, in December, were nothing happens and every one remembers… how nice that would be. This only made me cry harder. “Honestly, stop crying.” she snapped bitterly. Now I was scolded, like a dog. The depth of my sorrow increased. So still sniffling, and shedding small tears, I shuffled into the car. The whole way I looked out the window, being aware I was headed to the place I didn’t want to go. Soon we arrived, as we parked my Mom seemed to be softened, so she told me, “Ashton, Aunt Sheenna and the cousins have a recording for you.”

When the recording started, I heard my cousins off-key voices and my Aunt trying to lead/drown their voices. It warmed my heart ever so slightly, as they started singing a song that meant a lot to me, seeing as I felt forgotten…

“Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday dear Ashton

Happy Birthday to you”

This felt so wonderful. It brought a small smile. But only a small one. Then I trugged behind my family to get into the party. The warm feeling was gone. It would not come back. The line was long. I knew that people saw my tearstained face and that made me blush, now my face was even redder than it was when I was crying. Time went by, and we were allowed in. The party seemed decent. There was bungee jumping, a animatronic bull, bouncy houses, even face painting. I wanted to lose myself in the crowd. Get away from myself, but first we had to find our Dad. We had no luck in finding him, so instead we went to the bungee jumping. When we got into the line, there was a river of children. By the time it was my turn, my Dad had come.

“Dad, can you hold my glasses?” I asked. It would not be good to have my glasses flying into the unknown.

“Sure!” Dad answered. I required assistance putting on my harness. Soon I was being pulled into the air. “Make sure you make her jump high!” Dad yelled. “It’s her birthday!” So, Dad had remembered. I was jumping really high now.The descent came with my gut tearing away at me, like a pit growing deeper. This continued for two or three minutes.

Then we raced through bouncy houses, and tried to dodge a twirling inflatable pillar. It was brutal, I received for all my efforts, three trampoline burns. Then I got to have my face painted, again I took my glasses off. Fairy eyes. I had fairy eyes. Before we left, we could ride the animatronic bull, that tried to buck you off. Easier said than done, I got more trampoline burns.When we got home we got cupcakes for my birthday (Mom felt sorry for me.) The End.