The Anomaly Affliction

Four

27th February. Another day of school and...it's my birthday too, I guess.

All I really want to do is stay at home and have Lake come over, but I can't. Instead I drag myself out of bed, ignore my parents beaming and singing "happy birthday" to me, and go to school. I spend the day at school, simultaneously hating everything and thinking of Lake, and then go home as quickly as possible. I hate having a birthday on a school day. At school, the teachers get notified when it's a student's birthday, so in every single lesson the class (and teacher) sings "happy birthday" to the student. They all smile with their teeth showing and sing it with that joy and enthusiasm that seems so incredibly forced to me. But I know it isn't. How can it be forced when it's in their blood?

At break time, Lake runs up to me and throws her arms around me.

"Happy birthday!" she smiles.

Hers is the only smile I like seeing. It's the only smile that doesn't seem fake. All day people smile at me and say "happy birthday" (unless they're pre-vaccines and don't like me), but they all just seem so laboured - except Lake. I know that her happiness is real. I know that she loves me.

After school I'm sick of hearing the words "happy birthday". I go home and my parents appear right in front of me as soon as I close the front door, which startles me a little.

"Hi honey!" Mum says cheerily.

Ugh.

"Hey," I say back, not returning the smile she gives me.

"How was school?" asks Dad.

That's the question they ask every single day when I get home, if they're not at work.

"It was alright," I say, nonchalant. "I mean, everyone kept saying 'happy birthday' to me, which was annoying."

"Why is it annoying?" Mum asks. "It's your birthday - your day to celebrate!"

Her permanently cheerful voice makes me want to gauge my eyes out sometimes.

"What is there to celebrate?" I shrug.

"You're sixteen now," Dad says. "You're old enough to get vaccinated!"

You mean I'm old enough to be forced into becoming boring and lifeless like you? Oh boy, I can't wait!

Shut up, I internally tell my brain.

"Do you want me to get vaccinated?" I ask. I don't know why I ask that. I know what the answer will be.

"Of course we do," Mum replies. "It's much better being free of bad emotions."

"Why?"

"Because why be sad when you can be happy?"

What a weak response.

"Surely in order to be happy, we need to be sad."

"No no," Dad replies. "In order to be happy, we need the SentiVaccines."

"I manage to be happy without the SentiVaccines."

"Are you sure about that?" Mum raises her eyebrows as if she's unimpressed, but she can't be.

"Are you referring to last month?" I ask, feeling slightly annoyed.

"I am," she replies, still with that wide smile on her face.

For some reason, this really pisses me off. I feel a sudden spark of anger, like a flame being lit in my mind.

"Just because I tried to kill myself, Mother, doesn't mean I'm incapable of feeling happy every once in a while."

"Doesn't it?" she asks.

Her smile is making me more and more aggravated.

"No, it doesn't. Don't you think I'm happy with Lake?"

"But is she happy with you?" Dad says.

What the fuck does that mean?! Are they saying I'm incapable of loving someone? Of someone loving me? Why are they being like this? Why are they doubting that Lake loves me? Do they see me as some kind of burden to the world, a low-life that drags every down? Well guess what, parents: I already know that's what I am - you don't need to tell me.

The flame in my mind grows into a small fire.

"Why are you asking that?" I frown.

"Because she may not be," Dad continues. "But when you both get the vaccines, she will be. And so will you."

The small fire isn't small anymore.

"We're happy together!" I shout. "I don't need your artificial happiness to be happy with her. And neither does she."

"Our happiness isn't artificial," Mum says, smiling patronisingly and linking arms with Dad. "The vaccines are the most important things that will happen in your life. They'll make you feel so much better. Trust me."

"Trust me"? Wow, she sounds like President fucking Curtis.

"And, they'll cure that depression of yours," Dad adds chirpily.

Well maybe I wouldn't have this depression of mine if I'd had a happier childhood. Maybe I'd be happier now if I'd felt like I had a family when I was younger. Maybe if my parents had loved me like they should, and spent time with me like they should, I wouldn't be so fucked up now.

What pisses me off the most is the fact that they're making me feel like shit and they look so fucking happy while they do it. I want to wipe those insufferable smiles right off their faces. The fire isn't small anymore. It's big, and it's still growing.

I want to hit something.

Before I can respond, Dad says: "Anyway, we came to tell you that you need to go upstairs until we call you down."

"Why?" I snap, folding my arms.

"Because it's your birthday!" he grins. He reaches out to put his hand on my shoulder, but I pull my shoulder back before he can lay a finger on me. When I feel like this I don't want anyone touching me.

"Now," says Mum. "Go and have fun upstairs. We'll call you when we're ready."

"Have fun upstairs". Most of the time when I'm upstairs I'm breaking down. That'll probably happen now. Yeah, that's lots of fun.

Mum's smile widens. I cock my head to one side and find myself wondering just what it would be like to hurt her. Would it be possible for her to feel pain? Would it knock that stupid smile off her face? Would she scream? Would she cry? Would she react the way that she should've reacted when she saw her post-suicide attempt daughter last month?

Anger and curiosity team up in my head, and I find myself raising a clenched fist and punching my mother in the nose.

She stumbles back and puts a hand over her mouth and nose. Dad's eyes are fixed on her. His smile is smaller than it was before, but there's still the trace of a smile on his face. Everything is stonily silent. Mum looks down at her nose. Her hand is still covering it. After a few seconds, she takes her hand away. There's blood on her palm and below her nostrils. I made her bleed. She looks completely blank. She's not even smiling. I think this is the first time I haven't seen her smile or have a vaguely u-shaped mouth. And for some sickening reason, I like her face like this. It gives me some sort of weird satisfaction that I wish I didn't have at the sight of my bleeding mother.

God, my mind is right. I am a monster.

All of a sudden she flinches and her face returns to normal - her mouth curls into that plastic smile, her eyes look bright as always, and she looks happy.

I can't face this. I need to get out the house. At least for a little while.

"I'm going to Lake's," I say, realising that my fists aren't clenched anymore.

I turn and leave the house.

"Be back by 18," I hear Mum call out from behind me as I shut the door.