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Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #1644407
Could not sleep so thought I should write something.


Short Story: Cursed Birthday



         I lost my parents when I was seven. Dad was a businessman and mom, his lawyer. They had both gone out of state for a business trip leaving me with our neighbour, and dad's best friend, Doctor William Arthur. It was my seventh birthday and mom wanted to spend it with me so they were hurrying back home. On the way from the airport to our house, only 6 miles away, a drunk driver hit their car and they were no more. That day I decided three things: I hate my birthday, I hate alcohol, and I hate driving.

         Since I had no living relative besides an old grandma, who could not even look after herself, Doctor William took me in. He did not adopt me, he just raised me as his own kid. I liked that family, especially his wife Mia. When I had nightmares about my parent's death, she was the one to comfort me. When I wanted to eat something, she was the one to cook it for me. She never let me feel like my mother wasn't alive anymore- she was my mother. But, God did not seem to want me to be happy. Every time I thought I could smile, I could be happy again, he snatched that happiness away from me and let me live in despair.

          On my tenth birthday, 3 years after my parents' death, Mia passed away. No one knew what happened. When I returned from school, the house was solemn and someone told me Mia was no more. No one blamed me, instead, everyone comforted me. They felt like I had lost yet another mother. I blamed myself, I hadn't lost my mother-I had killed her. I decided I hated my very existance.

         Life went on, although I thought I could never move on. And then on my fifteenth birthday, I lost Doctor... my last hope. He had fallen into depression after Mia's death and started taking drugs. Due to overdose of that very drug, while mourning for his wife's death, he had died as well. I had killed yet another person dear to me. That day, I vowed I would never care for anyone nor let anyone care for me. I became known as the Ice Queen. I wanted to die, put an end to this misery but I couldn't. Doctor wouldn't have wanted me to become to die. Mia either. And my parents? I decided I wanted to live.

         Nothing happened for a while. I did not let anyone get close to me and I did not get close to anyone. I was alive but was not living... i was just getting by until I met Aaron. He loved me, or rather he claimed he loved me. He was a sweet guy, the only guy I talked to. I had started to trust, to love again. Perhaps that was my mistake. People learn from past mistakes, I just repeat them. Unfortunately, I started falling in love with him.

         I was only human- i wanted to love too. i wanted, needed, someone to be with. I could not go on being the Ice Queen forever. God would forgive me, wouldn't he? I kept wondering. Just this once, He would let me have my happiness wouldn't he? The answer was inevitable, or so I thought. No, He would not.

         It was my twenty first birthday, and Aaron wanted to do something special for me. I begged him to just stay with me: all day, all year.... forever. He would not listen.

         Why did he not listen to me?   

         He was gone for thirty minutes when I recieved a phone call from the cops saying they found a wrecked motorcycle. There was no trace of the man who was riding it but the cellphone was there. The phone dropped from my hands as I hyper ventilated. I had done it again. I had killed again. I was a murderer. I did not deserve to live after killing everyone. How could I live without Aaron? Why would I live without him? Why?

         I suddenly felt dizzy and then blackness overcame me. I felt my head hit the hard floor and I let my eyes close. God, please just kill me.

         I felt something -- a hand-- over my hand. I wasn't dead. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream.

         Aaron.

         I love you.

         He is dead.

         I want to die.

         Just as the thought crossed my mind, I felt someone kiss my hand. Ignoring the splitting headache that had started to form, I opened my eyes and turned to the person beside me.

          I was no longer a murderer.

         It was my birthday.

         The curse was lifted.   

© Copyright 2010 Aashi Ray (abhilashak at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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