Born To Die

I lose everything in one day

It was my tenth birthday, but it didn't feel much different than any other day. I was still the kid at the bottom of the food chain at school, still the one who had trouble reading, who couldn't sit still no matter how hard I tried. The teachers were nice, and my school was supposed to help kids like me, but I always felt like I was stuck, like everyone else was getting better while I stayed the same.

Dad tried his best to make the day special. We had a small party last weekend with a few kids from school, but they weren't really my friends, not like the ones you see in movies. They came for the cake and games, and that was about it. Today, though, it was just me and Dad, and I liked it better that way.

After dinner, Dad brought out a chocolate cake—my favorite. It had "Happy Birthday, Isla" written in blue icing, and a few mismatched candles sticking out at odd angles.

"Make a wish," he said with a smile, as he set the cake down in front of me.

I stared at the flickering candles for a moment, thinking. I had made wishes before—wishes for friends, for the kids at school to stop whispering behind my back, for Mom to come back. None of them ever came true. But still, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and blew out the candles.

"Got it in one go," Dad said, clapping his hands together like he always did.

I smiled at him, but something in his face looked different. He seemed nervous, which wasn't like him. He was usually calm and steady, always trying to make things easier for me. Today, though, he kept glancing at the small box on the table next to the cake.

"I have something for you," he said, his voice a little quieter than usual. He reached for the box and handed it to me.

I looked down at the small box, the kind that looked like it should have something important inside. It wasn't big, but it felt heavy in my hands. I could feel my heart beating a little faster as I opened the lid.

Inside, resting on a bed of soft fabric, was a necklace. A thin, gold chain, and at the end of it was a pendant—a tiny dagger. The handle was wrapped in intricate designs, and at the center of the hilt was a ruby, small but deep red, like a drop of blood. It was beautiful, but it didn't look like anything a kid would wear. It looked... ancient, like it belonged to someone powerful.

"Dad... what is this?" I asked, my fingers brushing over the dagger. It felt warm, almost like it was alive.

He sat down next to me, his face serious but soft. "It's from your mother."

I blinked, staring at him. "From Mom?" My voice came out small, like I didn't quite believe him. "But... she's not... I mean..."

Dad nodded, his eyes meeting mine. "I know, Isla. It's hard to believe. But she wanted you to have this. She gave it to me a long time ago, and I've been waiting to give it to you when I thought you were ready."

I stared at the necklace, feeling a lump form in my throat. I didn't know what to say. Part of me didn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. Mom wasn't real. Not like a normal mom, anyway. She wasn't here, hadn't been here for as long as I could remember. But this... this was different. This was real, right in front of me.

"But why now?" I asked quietly, my fingers curling around the necklace. "Why didn't she ever come? Why didn't she ever talk to me?"

Dad looked down for a moment, his face tightening like it always did when I asked about her. "I don't have all the answers, Isla," he said softly. "But she does care about you. More than you know. And this necklace... it's special. It's going to help you."

I felt the weight of the dagger pendant in my hand, still warm, like it was waiting for something. "Help me how?"

"It's not just a piece of jewelry," Dad explained. "It carries a piece of her. A part of her power. When you wear it, you'll feel her presence, even if she's not here. And it'll help you discover the strength that's already inside you."