Tales From the Beyond

Adri Adityo Wisnu
Chapter #9

Happy Birthday

Tonight is the night where my parents hold a party in our house to celebrate my 18th birthday. I don’t really feel the need for it though, after all for me age is just a number and it would keep adding up years after years until it’s time to stop. But that’s okay; I could see who really care for me and who don’t. My parents have been sending out invitations two weeks ago, I specifically said to her to invite only my closest friends, but she ended up inviting a whole class. I bet my entire savings that most of them wouldn’t come; I don’t think they even know I exist. What a waste of time. I don’t care if they would make time to come, but for the sake of my mother, I hope they do. My parents’ had been pretty busy preparing for the celebration since this morning, they hardly even talk to me. I offer them my help, but they act as if they didn’t listen to me so I came back to my room and wait until it’s time for the party to start.

At 6 o’clock I woke up from what supposed to be a deep sleep. It’s a wonder I can sleep at a time like this. My mom is a pretty punctual person and it’s pretty weird that she hasn’t banged on my bedroom door telling me to dress up and come downstairs welcoming anyone who comes. Usually she started yapping an hour before the time, but the party starts at 6 which means right now and she hasn’t made a sound. Well, actually there are no sounds at all coming from downstairs. I guess that means nobody came. I don’t feel the need to dress up since I’m already good with what I’m wearing so I came out and trace my step downstairs. To my disbelief, my house is packed with people. Most of them I only knew by face because they’re my classmates and some people from my school. Hey, even the teachers are here! Of course, I recognized my best friends; they’re standing up closest to my parents, and among them, is my girlfriend. She’s wearing a dark blouse and skirt, her head is tilting halfway down and her beautiful hazel eyes are focusing on something I’m not able to see. I’ve known her for a long time but we started dating a year ago. Also, we both lost our virginity to each other.

Looking at her now, I can tell something’s different about her. She’s a cheerful one, always laughing and joking around, even when she’s sad she can still crack a joke or two. But now her face is gloomy, she looks really sad. In fact, everyone in the room has the same expression. Everyone in the room wore black, even my parents. I took a glance around the room, the atmosphere feels dark and heavy.

Then, my mom started talking. There’s a slight tremble in her voice, as if she’s trying so hard to hold on tears. Her hand is tightly clutching a piece of moist tissue; she didn’t seem to plan to let it go. My father’s standing beside her, his hands placed on her shoulder. My mom then began a speech, a speech about me. About my childhood, about who I am as a person, about the good things I’ve done in my life. There’s nothing but compliment, which is weird because she rarely gave that to me. Nobody else said a word while she talk, although they did make a noise once in a while when she said something funny or something people could agree on about me. But even then, nobody was really laughing, nobody’s seems to be excited. Even when they’re smiling, their eyes are filled with longing and sorrow. I noticed a stream of tears rolling down my girlfriend’s face, even my best friends are crying.

Everyone’s standing encircling something and I intended to find out what, so I continue my way down the stairs and approached it. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. It’s not a birthday cake or things like that, it was my photo inside a frame. It was standing up leaning against a bouquet of flowers. I had an excited smile in that photo, a smile that everyone in this room wouldn’t be able to see ever again. It finally hits me. I would’ve been 18 years old today if that motorcycle accident a week ago never happened. It’s not a birthday celebration that these people are having now, it was a memorial... for me.

It feels nice to know that everyone is here. My family, my close friends, my girlfriend, the teachers (although I’m not their favorite), even my classmates and other kids from my school—whom I doubt even knew my name—came. Now I can rest, I can continue my existence in another place, as a 17-year-old who would never grow old.

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