Exchanging Gifts

~~~

She sat in the pouring rain for hours watching the tiny pinpricks of her own blood mix with remnants of mud before the falling droplets rinsed her palms. The melding of colors against the canvas of her pale skin mesmerized her as the sound of each tick-tock, tick-tock from her wrist gave away the hour.

Footsteps approached from the shabby parking lot. "Happy birthday, Delaney." The person who resembled Cher in her big, black, curly wig and fishnet stockings continued on toward the midnight party with the slush-slosh of muddy footsteps slowly fading as they went.

She beamed with gratitude but cringed inside. Her twenty-first birthday—usually a cheery occasion. Still, every time birthday slipped from someone's lips she would die a little. And her goal was to survive another year of what resembled peace.

A faint wailing in the distance brought her to her feet. She didn't turn around, but she could imagine little fingers churning the mud in the historic cemetery as the hands moved through the wet earth.

The inviting commotion ahead grew as others gathered in the abandoned church, made lively again with 80's club music, black lights, and booze.

"Hey, Delaney. Happy birthday."

She smiled, content with the majority of the partygoers' attention solely on the gathering. Last year was no different. All eyes on the half-clothed celebrity impersonators and the mind-altering substances meant less scrutiny on her, which had permitted her to sneak off and dispose of any trace that she had committed a crime.

The minimal attention at the party was similar to the lack of attention she garnered in life, which had allowed her to secretly live through nine months of gradual body changes without anyone questioning a thing, especially Noah Reid. He hadn't even looked her way after that enchanting summer fling.

How their lives would've changed if he knew what their passion had produced.

She had been convinced of the brutal irony that the Universe wanted her to deliver her ultimate gift on the very night she turned twenty; alone in a bathroom stall of the old church while under the influence. What were the odds? The gods had wanted her to produce the lifeless bundle as a form of punishment for being a lonely, cowardly, introvert looking for unhealthy ways to fit in.

It wasn't even her party, it just happened to be one she was invited to on her birthday.

Hard to say no.

A high-pitched scream preceded the thunderclap that shook the air, and each rattled her bones. She finally turned and peered through the rusted iron gate and into the dark, murky cemetery. For as far as her eyes could see, multiple stones of enormous grave markers littered the gloomy muddy grounds.

She couldn't make out the roses from where she stood, but she remembered them thorny, soggy, and nearly lifeless as they blanketed the base of the three-hundred-year-old tombstone.

If anyone saw what she had done they would recognize her by the large white Elton John glasses, the dark bowl cut wig, and the flashy purple pant suit she wore.

The music continued on, thumping at the perfect moments. No matter how loud it bumped, the tiny wails howled above it.

She berated herself for returning to the old church. Shame and fear were unescapable when you'd do anything to keep fitting in. And she had taken that punishment. Like selling her soul to the highest bidder in exchange for the gift of another year of inclusion in the "it" crowd.

The weeping continued, echoing far from the other side of the cemetery just beneath the soil and the fresh bouquet of thorny flowers.

Again, she looked down at her prickled palms, remembering an old Oasis song. "I don't mind not going to Heaven, as long as they've got cigarettes in Hell."

"Delaney," a random voice called. "Happy birthday."

She knew her secret would eventually be exposed. In the meantime, her goal was to survive another year of what resembled peace.

THE END