"Yeah, it's you." He said with a wonderful smile.
"Lords of the ring," I said.
He smiled looking into my eyes and I couldn't but feel the bubbles in my stomach.
"It's a nice book," he said. "So sweetheart, when is your birthday?"
My ears tickled with the word Sweetheart. Like someone just called me sweetheart. This made me smile.
"Next week in seven days." I stuttered a bit flustered by his closeness to me.
"So what would you be doing?" He asked.
"Nothing special," I said with a shrug.
"Well, if I may ask, where do you stay?" He said.
"Down the street, the seventh house after this," I said, not sure why I was speaking to him.
I guess, it's because I got no one to speak to me in such a nice manner.
"May I come, take you out on that day, maybe a date to celebrate you?" He asked.
I stared intensely at him as I didn't know what to say.
"Well, I don't know." I finally said, putting back the strand of hair that covered my face behind my ear.
"You should," he said.
I stared at him as I didn't know what he meant by that, but anyway, it would be good if I went out.
"Alright," I said.
At that point, I heard laughter beside me and turned to see the source of the laughter. I looked at the lady beside me who had a phone pointed to my face. She and some others were laughing.
I also turned to see the man I was speaking with laughing.
Was this a joke? Did he make me a joke?
He sighed and then looked at me. "Do you think I will go out with you, to celebrate your birthday? You feel like a fool now, agreeing to the words of someone you don't know."
He continued laughing after saying these hurtful words.
Tears flowed my eyes as I picked up my bag, pushed him aside, and rushed out of the building. Their laughter echoed in my ear as I ran out.
The next week, I sat alone in my quarter holding on to my hand.
"It's my birthday. I wish myself a happy birthday." I said to myself.
I celebrated my birthday in a low-key manner when Mr. Scott's wife was alive, though her children were against it. I don't know what this day is going to look like to me.
I looked at my door and remembered how everyone had dejected me, how my adopted mother died, leaving me in this world of pain.
I felt broken and in pain. I thought of how everyone who had shown me love before would look at me from heaven to curse me.
"I am just a mess," I said to myself.
There was nothing else in this world that thrilled me, but I knew there was a reason for my existence, that I do not know. But obviously, it is not to curse people's death.
There is probably a reason for this continuous death. Maybe someone placed a curse on my parents and me.