November

September

'Betty!'the angry voice of my mother shouted from downstairs and made me jump up directly. Over the last years everything had changed drastically. My parents got divorced and my mother had married a man called Billy and was pregnant with his baby now. I hated him more than anything else and he didn't like me either. My mother didn't seem to care and full filled the promise she'd made in this awful night when everything had changed, when I was only 8 years old and had seen my best friend for the very last time: to destroy my dads and my life. I had no contact to anyone my age except my cousin Bridget who seemed to hated me even more as the days past by. I got homeschooled and if I had a little luck I could see my dad once a year. In 1 day was my birthday and I was allowed to go visit my dad. I was 17 by now and about to turn 18 on September 5th. The same day as Farrokhs birthday. Then I could hopefully move as far away as I could. I closed my eyes for a second and remembered Farrokhs face when I'd seen him the very last time, since I'd seen him the last day there was no day passing by, when I did not think of him. I never heard of him after this anymore because my mother had banned me from anything which could remind me of my 'awful life' in Zanzibar, Tanzania. She even tried to make me forget about my father but as she realized that this wouldn't work, she made me just see him once a year. For my birthday. Farrokhs birthday was a day later and I always had hoped to see him then but my mother took me back home before I even had the chance to do so. I'd once made the mistake to ask my dad to give Farrokhs dad a letter for Farrokh in my mothers presence and since then she controlled the letters. So I always had to write that everything was fine because otherwise she would have killed me. I also had to tell my dad that everything was fine. Even if I would have told him the truth my mother would have still been there and would have done everything to make me lie to my dad. Farrokh never answered one of my letters anyways. I guess he tried to do so but if my mother was throwing them away before I could see them,there was no way I could have read them. I was pretty sure that he'd called me often or at least had tried to do so. I often had tried to contact him but it somehow had never worked out. Now I would stay with my father a few weeks. I still didn't understand why my mother allowed me to do so but it made me very happy. To believe that I could see Farrokh once more and tell him everything made me smile. I went over to my desk and opened a box. Under many pieces of paper laid a photograph which Jer had taken of Farrokh and me when we were 7 years old. We stood next to each other in my garden and he had laid his arm around my shoulder. On the back of the photograph stood: 'I'll always be there for you - Farrokh' he had given me this picture on the very last day we saw each other and promised me to always be there. But we were 8 and had no idea what would happen to us.
My mothers voice made me pack the photo back in the box directly. I placed it under my bed to hide it from her. She might have taken many things from me and she might have ruin my life but she couldn't take the only picture of my best friend I had left.

'BETTY!' she shouted even louder this time and I ran downstairs. 'Yes mother.' I answered. 'Why does it take so long for you to move your ass downstairs?' she shouted and I knew that I wasn't supposed to answer this question. 'Did you pack everything?' she asked and I nodded.My mother put on a fake sad sounding voice and said:'I sadly can't come with you to celebrate your birthday. It's an awful day anyways. I never liked your birthday as you might know. I've got better things to do anyways. Don't expect me to give you anything like a present for your birthday too. I did not want you to be born on this day. I never wanted you to see the light of the world at all but your father... ' she took a deep breath out and looked in my eyes.'I hate this man even more than I hate you. I sometimes wish you'd never been born at all. As you know I'm pregnant now and I will love and raise my child. I don't like you and I never loved you. So don't expect me to do something for you if I have a child and also I won't suddenly treat you different. In my eyes your not my child at all.'she said and I felt cold but I didn't cry. Over the last few years she had said so many similar things to me, that I was used to it. Of course it made me sad but I could stay strong. Making me cry was one of her goals and there was no way for me to make her win. 'So' she continued. 'Goodbye and don't say hi to anyone. I never liked those people.' she said and with those words she left the room. I went upstairs to take my suitcase and leave. Before I left my room I opened the box I'd hiden from my mum all the years and took out the picture. I laid it in my backpack and closed it. Then I went to the bus station to get to the airport.
'You're visiting your father again lady?' the woman at the check in point asked me and I nodded. 'Very sad that you can't stay at home with your friends and your family on your birthday and have to fly to Zanzibar to see him. He must be really awful and busy. Your poor mother.' she said and applied the sticker with the words ' Ms. Betty Smith London-Zanzibar' on my suitcase. I didn't answer. If she'd know that she was dead wrong or if I would shout at her I wouldn't be allowed to fly to my dad, I wouldn't see Farrokh (if I would even see him), my mother would nearly kill me and I would have an even more awful birthday than I ever had in my life before.