II

It was a terrible thing to say, but the little boy didn't think his mother was beautiful anymore.

She never danced with him or said I love you. Sometimes, she said really mean things and avoided looking into the boy's eyes. It wasn't fair. Just because the little boy was sick didn't mean that he looked sick!

On really bad days, his mother refused to even acknowledge his presence. He would go up to her and show her the perfect A's only to be calmly ignored. One time, he tugged on her sleeve and asked to be swept away, like a prince. The little boy still remembered the sharp tone.

"Don't touch me," she said. "I don't want to get sick like you."

The little boy didn't dare stomp away and slam the door. That might make his mother really mad and it was going to be his birthday soon.

He was going to turn six and he had been acting really good. Maybe he'd get a new robot! Or even a new book. He was really excited.

He didn't want to ruin the surprise, so he didn't ask his parents about his presents. But every year, he got better and cooler presents. At his fifth birthday party, he had received a real science lab kit. And on his fourth birthday, he had gotten a whole basket full of chocolates.

His best friend had been gone for a whole month, so his parents were unhappy and really tired. But, sometimes, they would make the effort and treat the little boy to ice cream. Then they'd walk back home and watch the sunset. The boy treasured days like those.

The whole week, he kept hearing snatches of conversation from his parents. He had a good feeling that they were discussing his birthday present. He heard words like injections, healing, and better life. He would shiver with delight, because he always loved hearing about presents.

Finally, after the tenth time that the boy heard his mom say 'it'll be just like before,' the boy realized what his birthday present was. His parents were going to make him better! He wouldn't be sick anymore. The boy almost cried from the shock of learning that life would become perfect again.

Perfect.

The morning of his birthday, the boy woke up with a giddy feeling deep in his stomach. Today was the day! His mother would stop staring at him and his father would take him out for ice cream to celebrate. Then the boy remembered that his present was downstairs! He got so excited that he raced downstairs.

It was silent.

The little boy was confused. Where were his parents? He had to find them! He was tired of being patient all the time.

He looked and looked, but his parents weren't home. He was a little disappointed, but he knew they would be back home. And then they'd give him love and kisses and medicine to help him.

Morning turned quickly to night. The whole time, the little boy stared out the window, hopes high. It was going to be all right. His parents were just preoccupied. Maybe they were having trouble wrapping the gift.

His parents finally arrived home, but something was wrong. They were too silent and frightening shadows lurked in their eyes. The boy was almost scared of the two humans in his house.

But he had been so patient! He was going to get his present, no matter what.

So the little boy took a deep breath and approached his mother, who was chopping vegetables. He hesitantly asked his mother if she knew what day it was. His mother stayed silent. The boy's hopes sunk. But he was persistent and stubborn. He kept asking and asking until he looked down and saw the blood on his mother's fingers.

His eyes wide, the boy watched as his mother blindly continued chopping the vegetables, mixing blood with green. Frantic worry and panic threw the boy and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong. Only to be met with a slap in the face.

"Go to your room," the mom said.

With his mother's blood dripping down his face, the little boy swallowed up his tears and headed for the living room.

Some small part of him, though, still had hope. So when he saw his brave father, his strong and brave father, sitting on the couch, he approached him timidly. His father ignored the blood on his son's face and continued blankly staring at the tv. The boy nearly gagged from the strong stench of alcohol.

"Isn't it your birthday today, son?" The father asked.

The boy's eyes brightened and he felt a rush of love for his father. His mother was just having a bad day, but at least his father hadn't forgotten him! With a smile, the little boy waited for anything. A hug, a kiss, anything.

Silence until his father spoke. "Be a good boy and get me some more beer, would you? Don't tell your mother."

Blinking back his disappointment, the small and scared boy did what his father asked him to.

That night, he crawled to bed, humming his own little birthday song. It was ok. The little boy was smart enough to take this day, this terrible, horrible day, and turn it into a storybook intended for his own mind. That was his birthday present from his parents.

Slipping into dreams, the little boy managed to convince himself that the tears on his face were those of joy.


AN: And it starts. God, I'm tired. Review, comment, leave a note and I'll respond. :)