Number 394

Childhood

Their tests here are odd, and I'm not sure what they're trying to accomplish, but they are effective to an extent, I suppose. The men, in their forever pristine lab coats, asked me to run on a sort of treadmill - for what felt like an eternity - with my vitals attached to a foreign machine that recorded my physical condition. Obviously, after however long I've been in that capsule, I was not in the best shape and I'm now completely exhausted.

I still must write, however; I must finish my story now that I've begun. While my arms still work and I can think properly, I shall write on.

To prevent confusion, my life is much easier to tell in the form of a story. From now on, that is how I will write unless I am explaining the next passage dedicated to a specific question. 

Without further hesitation, I present to you, my life. 

-

This morning was like any other, but the day was special.

That specific day, December fourteenth, was the day I turned seven.

My mother crept into my room and stood there with her shining smile, shaking me gently from deep slumber. She spoke my name, but the title was hazy in my mind as I rolled over and grumbled. "Wake up," she whispered as I opened my eyes slightly. I pretended to be asleep as my brother Adam and Derek waltzed in, both beaming as well.

"Hey, sleepy-head," Derek called, "Have you forgotten what day it is?"

"C'mon now, wake up," Adam  said impatiently, marching to the side of my bed to yank the covers away. I instinctively curled into a ball and whimpered; the air was frigid and I could spot snowflakes drifting through the open window.

"...cold," I finally mumbled, receiving the stares of all three members of my family. Adam graciously strolled to the window and shut the pane gently, turning to me with a smile.

"Now you have to get up," he stated firmly, "Because I closed the window."

At the moment, his logic made sense, so I rose from my sheets and stood hesitantly. Three sets of grins met my eyes, and I smiled back without thought.

Then, Derek grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me to his shoulders, grunting softly. "You're getting heavier," he commented, laughing. I playfully smacked the top of his head and heard more laughter from my mother. "Hey, watch what you're doing. I might have to tickle you later," Derek muttered, suddenly serious. I froze in fear, holding onto his neck, with my heart racing.

"I was only messing around," I said frantically as I was marched downstairs and into the kitchen and set at a place at our dining room table. The fake, auburn wood finish on the table was tearing off at the edges, and wearing in others - like all the furniture in the house - but I didn't mind. All I cared about was the heaping pile of pancakes before me that were drenched in oozing, imitation maple syrup. "Are these all for me?"

"Of course," Adam reassured, appearing surprised as he raised his eyebrows. "You are the birthday boy, so you get the pancakes today."

That was the tradition, of course.

My mother could barely scrape together enough money to pay for the bills, which meant the traditional cake was out of the question.

They all smiled and stared wearily from across the table as I feasted. My stomach swelled like an overfilled balloon as their stomachs silently grumbled and begged for food. They watched on with hungry eyes. 

They must've been starving.

"Happy Birthday," Adam mumbled, leaning on the table as he carefully stood. Derek and my mother started a soft round of singing before my mother stood. She limped when she paced towards the door, which was part of an accident long before my time.

"I've got to leave for work," she called as the familiar jingling of metallic keys reached my ears.

"Alright, I love you!" I called without hesitation.

Derek glanced at the cracked watch face on his slim wrist and sighed as my mother gently closed the door behind herself.

"I have to leave for work soon, too," Derek muttered almost mechanically as he rubbed his eyes.

This morning was like any other, yet that day was my birthday.

I didn't have a cake.

I didn't recieve a single present.

Yet, somehow, I was happy.

I had my family, and that was all I needed. 

 When I was young, life was simple.