Birthday Girl

Birthdays were never happy. Sometimes they were bittersweet, or reflective. But hardly were they ever jubilant. Every year was a reminder not only of her own birth, but another's. Shared on the same day. Her father had once said when she was born her mother had declared her "the greatest birthday gift". But now the mother was gone, and only the daughter remained. 

Sometimes it was a brief thought, sometimes she went almost the whole day without remembering it. But every year the day was haunted with a memory, the memory of her sixth birthday. It was not the day her mother had died, but it may as well have been.

The day before her mother had seemed fine, perhaps a little tired and weak, but mother was always that way. For almost as long as her little self had been able to remember. Little Callic had gone to sleep with eager and giddy anticipation of tomorrow's plans. Starting with presents and celebration. She would go out with Mom on a date, and then later with Dad, and then they would all go and have fun together, they'd go to see the faire the next county over! But instead she'd awoken in the early hours of morning to the sounds of panic.

Mom had been taken to the physician, Dad went with her. Photography avoided her. Her memories of that day were foggy. Indeed, it felt like she'd passed the day in a fog. She had faint memories of Dad coming at the end of the day as the sun began to set, trying to look cheerful and trying some kind of muted celebration. But her mother had been absent. Like a gaping hole. In the moment she had felt fear. But looking back the memory was painted with despair.

Her mother had seemed to bounce back, just a little bit, a day or two later. But Callic had known something was wrong, that her mom was leaving. Everyone tried to pretend she would be okay. But she wouldn't be. She hadn't been. Her mother passed away a few weeks later.

Calligraphy sighed as she pushed open the lecture hall's door and stepped out into the brisk Taimlique¹ air. She had forgotten it was her birthday, until in class she had been pointed out by the professor - she always kept track of birthdays. Being wished "happy birthday" by the whole class had been embarrassing enough on its own, but the reminder had been an unwelcome one. Bacché seemed to have picked up on her off mood, and matched it with a voice even more monotone and quiet than normal.  

"You did well on that quiz, Calligraphy." He commented as he drifted lazily beside her. But as she started to pick up speed he teleported onto her shoulder and held on. "You also have an assignment for your Business Calculus class due in six days. I think the notes you took today should be helpful for that."

"Right... That." Calligraphy replied noncommittally. She was starting to feel a little queasy as her mind wandered back to that memory as it always did. Now that she wasn't so focused, or pressed on all sides by people and noise, a melancholy crept into the stillness that was left behind. Calligraphy picked up the pace to her dorm as she reflected on thoughts and feelings of that day.

"The world isn't about you. Stop being so selfish!" 

On that day, an anxious and frustrated Photography had said those words to her, but by now Calligraphy had forgotten the mouth that spoke them, and had simply internalized them. Like little weights placed on her heart to keep it in check. 

She hated her birthday for different reasons now. It attracted too much attention. And she couldn't exactly tell someone she hated her birthday. No one ever understood - or at least, their scrutiny and confusion made her heart sink, and she couldn't bring herself to explain. It was always such an awkward conversation. She'd much rather just live her life without some arbitrary day blown way out of proportion. She just wanted to stay quiet, keep her head down, and plow forward with her life.

Upon reaching the dorm Calligraphy patted her pockets for the key, which Bacché quickly found and proffered to her. She accepted it gratefully and unlocked the door. All she wanted right now was to crash on her bed and maybe take a warm nap. The entry was dark and bare. Both her roommates had classes, and they wouldn't be back for at least another hour. But even then they usually stayed out long into the evening with friends and strangers. She didn't bother turning the lights on, since she could see just fine without them.

Sometimes Calligraphy wondered how different things would be if she'd never been born. Would Mom still be alive? Would Photography have never run away? Dad would be happier, surely. And her roommates had so many friends being around her was definitely a killjoy. Calligraphy sighed again and stared at her feet as she rounded the corner into the living room on her way to her own room.

The lights flashed on brilliantly and Calligraphy shrieked as she was bombarded with the sudden presence and unfettered noise of three people.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" River, Forest, and Aurelia cried and laughed as Calligraphy threw her back against the wall and grabbed at her heart. River and Forest started to laugh and Aurelia stifled his own laughter.

"Woah! Callic, are you okay?" Aurelia chortled, reaching out a hand as she recovered, practically hyperventilating from the surprise. Calligraphy looked over the room with diminishing panic and heightening confusion. Balloons, streamers, a handful of colorfully wrapped boxes on the table. What?? "Callic, are you all right?" Aurelia repeated. Calligraphy's vision snapped back to him and her roommates. She looked between them for a prolonged moment.

"Wait? Why are you here?" She demanded.

"Because it's your birthday!" Aurelia and Forest replied, nearly in unison. Calligraphy scowled.

"How did you know that? I never told you!"

"He did." River elbowed Aurelia. Calligraphy didn't like how chummy he was getting with Aurelia, he wasn't a good influence. Aurelia grinned and Calligraphy's scrutiny turned to him.

"I did! …Ah…ha, when I went to the school office last year to come looking for you, the file they gave me had your birthday on it. So I thought I'd do something special!" Aurelia was sheepish, having to mention that incident. At the time Calligraphy had made it very clear to him how she felt about the breach of privacy. Her face burned at first with a flare of anger, but then overwhelmingly from embarrassment. 

"This is much more interesting than going to class." River smirked.

"Missing class for a surprise birthday party is a worthy cause!!" Forest declared, clapping her hands gleefully. 

Calligraphy was mortified - she must've looked awfully stupid jumping like that when they surprised her - and... She was annoyed. Why couldn't people just leave her aloneon her birthday? Calligraphy stumbled over her words as her emotions turned on top of themselves in a confusing and vivid landslide.

"You-!!! Ugh!" Calligraphy spat out in equal parts embarrassment, anger, shame and sorrow. She ran along the wall and into her room, slamming and locking the door behind her as she crashed onto her bed, the tears immediately following.

In the living room she left her three friends stunned and confused. Aurelia and Forest came to the door, knocking and asking what they'd done wrong, but Calligraphy didn't reply. She felt ashamed, she felt like hiding too. She hugged her pillow with her blankets draped over her horns in the dark of her room, listening distantly to the hushed and anxious chatter (mostly of Aurelia) outside her door.

No… birthdays were never happy.