Teach Me [COMPLETED✔]

3

Aspen

Sunday morning I woke up to balloons filling my room. It was an assortment of different colours, each of them touching the ceiling, floating aimlessly. Scanning my room, I pushed away the sheets as I made to grab the cluster of balloons that held a single pink rose. A note dangling from its stem.

Holding the paper between my thumb and index finger, I turned it around. Seeing the simple handwriting.

Happy Birthday!
Wishing you the happiest and brightest day.
The last few weeks have been brightful thanks to you.
Ps. I'm at the hospital. I'll be back before dinner. Make sure you change. We're going out to eat.

My throat closed up, eyes watering. It was simple, but then again the gesture was big. Even if he didnt know that, it meant the world to me that after twelve years I'd be celebrating a birthday. Even if it was with someone I barely knew, then again he was more present than my own parents.

They couldn't even send a card on my birthday, it was like I had been forgotten by them. Which I think I was at lengths of times. I did feel heart-broken that they had left me in that school, that I was only remembered at certain times. Yet I didn't hate them. I should, but they were my parents after all.

Honour thy father and thy mother. Even in death

Going to my vanity, I picked up their picture. The picture was old, one before my father died. It was a picture of them in one of their various vacations. My mothers hair there was a shade of dark brown, twisted in a bun. She was smiling, hand wrapped around my fathers waist. My father who smiled down at her, who unlike my mother I didn't get to say goodbye.

This wasn't the only picture of them, of my parents. There were others around the house, because as Chris had put it. They were my parents, they were my blood. And he respected the man that even though barely visited his daughter, took care of her.

Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I held their picture. If my mother had not died, she would have celebrated my birthday. It was a lie that I told myself. If she hadn't been sick, I wouldn't be here.

The day she came for me, I was on cloud nine seeing her. Thinking she was here that I failed to see what was wrong. She was frail, barely standing up straight. It was outside that I met him, that what I thought was all wrong. I only had two weeks to get ready, to say goodbye before she took her last breath. She tried to prepare me, but even as she took her last breath I was devastated. But it didn't last long, I had cried while she was alive. I had mourned. But now all I felt was empty.

The hours passed in which I cleaned the house. Chris had told me the first time he saw me cleaning that I didn't have to. That a woman would come by twice a week to do the deep cleaning, but it felt futile knowing I could do this. I had done it back with the other girls, it was no different doing it here. As evening nearned, I decided to take a shower. Doing the same process as yesterday. Choosing my favorite scent, vanilla.

I sat watching videos on the laptop Chris had gotten me at the same time as the phone, seeing a woman apply makeup. After many tries, I managed to make my lashes longer and darker. Adding only a line of chapstick. This was the best I could do. For now.

Earlier I had texted my friends, asking them what one wore to dinner. Both had bombarded me with questions, asking why I was doing dinner. With who? And I had answered, telling them the honest truth about today. And after many messages and pictures, they had agreed on a nice blue dress.

It was far too revealing. Too short, too tight, too little. But I had to remind myself I was 18. That I was no longer the girl that had to wear those long skirts and woolen vests. I was a new person.