Sorrow | 18+

29 Happy birthday

A song to listen to: Secret by Louane

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Vivienne

The air conditioner of the bus was broken. My forehead was glued to the window, hoping the winter cold would cool down my body.

I almost missed my stop. All my thoughts were shattered to a useless mess. My head was heavy as I couldn't breath through the hot air. Or maybe it wasn't the fault of the bus. Maybe I had just forgotten how my lungs worked. In and out, Vivienne.

An older lady who had pressed the stop button gave me looks under her tattooed eyebrows as we stepped out to the street. My feets weren't steady. I was swaying, glutching to my purse. The lady tightened her fur coat and turned up her nose before going her merry way. I was dishevelled and happy she didn't ask what my problem was.

I had to keep myself up for a few minutes still. I crossed the icy street, the snow reflected sunlight to blinden my sight. My hand found the metal rail and I grabbed it to get myself up the stairs. One step at a time, concentrating on one foot at a time. I couldn't let my stumble or I would stay in the ground. My gloves were lost, the cold metal biting my skin. I dragged myself up, huffing air out.

I looked at the code lock in front of the glass door, which didn't fit the otherwise historical look of the apartment building. It was a short wooden one made a century ago, but renovated to fit the modern standards.

I wanted to smack the lock. My brain couldn't come up with the code. I knew what it was. My keys were lost in my purse and in the current state of mind I had no ability to look for them. The numbers of the lock glowed in white, asking me to input the correct one.

I was disconnected. Nothing made sense inside of my mind. I didn't even know how I was moving my body forward.

I pushed the silvery call button. It rang but nothing happened. I pressed again. A click alerting me that the front camera was activated and then the buzzing sound came.

The door opened and every time it felt I was stepping back in time. The hallway was glowing in yellowish light and had dark wooden materials everywhere. The floor was covered in carpet with different odd swirl patterns in brown and beige shades.

The lift was a relic from years ago. I pushed the copper metal trellis aside to slip inside. I hit the button for the 6th floor and leaned against the wooden wall. I shut my eyes, praying everything would not snap and send me to an early. The white paper on the wall that indicated a security test for the elevator was made only a month ago did not help ease my panic. Every time I feared when the lift ascended with the slow and shaky pace.

My luck had to be running out. I was sure of it. Everywhere death traps waited for me, we both knew I should have died already. A stray bullet heading to me, a death similar to my maman's. Zara thought otherwise but she was an optimistic one.

The heavy and tall door of the apartment was slightly ajar. The smell of baked goods welcomed me. The evening sun was still brightening up the apartment. The old wood floor shrieked under the steps of Zara who appeared from the kitchen situated on the left side.

"Happy birthday!" Zara shouted with a happy smile on and a cake with 20 candles on her hands. She was a goddess in her soft brown hijab and wrapped blue dress, similar to the one I had borrowed from her.

The door slammed close behind me and my knees gave out. The puffy pink winter jacket softened the hit as I dropped to the floor. Tears dropped to my cheeks and Zara gave a confused, alerted look. I had been crying for so many days, bursting to tears in any moment anywhere, but for the last two weeks I had been almost normal. The cake landed on the mahogany dresser and Zara kneeled down in front of me.