Birthday Gift

A knock on the door never felt so terrifying. If this were any other day it wouldn’t worry me as much, but this day is different from the others. Today marks the anniversary of my birth. That may not seem like something worrying to many, but I’m different from other people. I have no friends or family members, and I have recently moved. So the chances of someone knowing my birthday and my address to send me something are very slim, but not impossible.

The hallway stretched for what feels like forever, and every step is filled with caution. I can hear my breath get heavy, and my heart rings in my ears, as the knocks on the door become constant in an impatient manner. Time slows as the conversation between my paranoia and rationality argue about whether I should answer the door or not. The heated conversation with myself seems not useful since rationality started to become easily persuaded. My heart beats heavy with fear and my mind screaming at me telling me to hide and wait for the delivery to be left at the door. Even my body started joining in, making every move I make heavy and frozen.

Finally I reach the end of the hall. I’ve had a complicated relationship with doors, they keep me safe from the outside world but using them always seems to get the better of me. Each grainy texture seems to stare at me, as if to tell me never to answer a singing door while they shield my confinement from horror. Surely my worries are all in my head. It could be anything, and with how hard I’ve worked to isolate myself and become invisible, the terror is most likely all in my own mind. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and act without any more thought. I answer the door. The delivery guy is a tall man with curly black hair and a hat covering his face. I take the box from his hands and quickly shut the door. Pressing my back against the smooth, mahogany door, I regain my breath to a steady pace.

“See? That wasn’t too bad.” I mutter to myself, forcing a giggle to trick my mind into believing I was just thinking silly thoughts.

I place the package on my kitchen island and pour myself a glass of wine. The suspense is drowning my emotions but fear freezes my hands as if a single movement could shatter them into a million tiny pieces. The liquid courage finally brings me to carefully tear at the brown paper covering the package. I open the package lid by lid, to uncover… a birthday card? A blue and yellow decorated birthday card with big red and pink letters “Happy Birthday”. I feel my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach. My hands shake as I pull the card out of the dull and empty box. Something falls out of the card, a piece of paper. I pick the fallen item up while I read the card. “You think you could run away and me not be able to find you and wish a happy birthday? You will always belong to me.”

I look at the paper and see a photo, of me sleeping in my pink sleeping gown, the one I’m currently wearing from last night. And in the corner a tall man, with black curly hair staring into the camera, smiling.

I hear a door creak to a close, and my breathing stops. Tears start to blind my eyes as I hear footsteps coming closer towards the kitchen. The falling of the paper seems to be the loudest thing I can hear for the smallest second, until a strong voice speaks behind me.

“It’s so good to finally meet you. And for your present, we will be together… forever.”