Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Birthday Present ❯ Birthday Present ( Chapter 1 )

His shirt was way too big for him.

It hung like a sack from his thin frame. I stared at his shoes. Worn out, tattered. Rubber soles peeling.

In his arms were a stack of books. A half-used pencil scribbling furiously at a last minute attempt at Algebra homework.

Something tugged at my heartstrings.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a ten.

Then I dropped it in front of him.

He didn't notice.

I picked it up and waved it around to get his attention.

The boy glared at me through the smudges on his face. "Why are you giving me that?"

Angry. Bitter. He might as well have spat out poison.

I was surprised. I hesistated. "It's for you. To spend."

He reached out his hand. I let him take the money from me, watched him hold the bill between his fingers.

And turned it over. And over. And over.

Examining. Inspecting. I could see in his eyes that he was almost afraid I was playing some sick joke on him.

He threw it at my feet. His eyes to the ground. "I don't want your charity. I'm fine by myself."

I felt confusion rise up in shocks along my spine. I could do nothing except stand there and watch him gather up his half-finished homework and disappear into the busy after-math of rush hour.

My mouth tasted like pennies. I glanced at the spot where the young boy had sat, leaning, against the dirty brick wall.

What have I done to you?

I'm only trying to help.

**

The smell was suffocating. A mixture of bleach and amonia. It made me grimace.

I went up to the counter where a woman sat meticulously shuffling a stack of papers, eyes squinting behind tortiseshell glasses. ÒExcuse me miss. I would like to find out some information about a child.Ó

The woman gave me a half-glance and straightened her papers for the umpteenth time. ÒAre you interested in adopting?Ó

I shook my head. ÒNo. I just want to find out more about a child.Ó

ÒYou have a name?Ó

Again, I shook my head. The woman took a thick binder out from behind the counter and pushed it towards me. The label read: State of Mind Orphanage Occupants.

ÒHow old was the child?Ó

After thinking, I said, ÒAbout fourteen.Ó

The woman flipped to a section in the binder and pushed it towards me.

ÒThank you.Ó

She nodded stiffly and went back to ironing out her stack of papers. I meandered idly towards a sitting area with the heavy binder in my hands, finally settling on a couch. I flipped through the pages, searching for a certain face.

I donÕt know how long I sat there on that cracked leather couch, but finally I found that face. The same dark, suspicious eyes that seemed too big for his thin face. My gaze traveled down to his personal information.

Andrew Wright D.O.B. May 21, 1993 Quiet, obidient, nervous around adults.

IÕd noticed something that remained consistent on each entry, a heading that read ÒPersonal HopesÓ and handwriting underneath. I squinted to read the slanted print for AndrewÕs entry:

To have a proper birthday.

I wasnÕt aware of my mouth dropping open. Or my eyes filling up with tears. But soon I found myself crying. The words bounced around in my head.

A birthday?

IsnÕt a birthday something that everybody has, no matter how much money they have, even when everything else has been stripped away? IsnÕt a birthday something to be celebrated, with cake and ice cream and maybe a present or two?

Yes, a birthday was all these things, but-- I looked at his sad features once more-- Andrew never experienced one.

I buried my head in my hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

**

The clock on the corner of my desk displayed 10:16 PM in bright red flashes. That meant May 21st was less than two hours away. Of course, I had never bothered to reset the time for daylight savings in five years, so technically it could be off by a whole day. I frowned. Would that even make a difference?

Nevertheless, tomorrow was May 21st, which was also Andrew Wright's birthday.

I looked down at the paperwork in my hands and felt horrible. The thought that I had picked a child out of something no less than a catalogue sickened me. Children weren't meant to be chosen, like your everyday dishwasher.

But then again, they weren't supposed to be locked up, either. State of Mind Orphanage, hellhouse, what have you. It was still a jail cell.

He deserves better, I reasoned.

**

I stood blinking in the sunlight, glad to be rid of the amonia fumes and that annoying, paper obsessed receptionist.

"You know," she had told me, looking sternly over the rims of her glasses, "we usually ask the child before the adopter signs the form."

"I want it to be a surprise," I'd said lightly.

The women had raised her eyebrows at me. "Are you sure he will consent to you?"

I swallowed. That had always a fear of mine, lingering in the back of my thoughts. But I had no choice. I had to risk it. "Y-yes," I had said.

As soon as she handed over the forms I had marched straight out of there.

**

It was in the park that I found Andrew, hanging around some of the city thugs. My stomach twisted itself into knots. I hated that he hung around those kind of people, the supposedly 'cool' crowd. They didn't see the real him, the secretly wistful boy that I had caught of glimpse of that day in the streets.

I suddenly realized how much he needed me. Or someone like me.

"Andrew!" I called out. I could see him turn around, surprised, looking for the source of voice.

Running up to a bunch of fifteen and fourteen year olds was the strangest thing I've done. I could feel the blood in my cheeks, turning them pink. I stopped in front of him.

Andrew stared at me. His dark eyes seemed to grow darker by the second. "You're the lady from that one day," he said slowly, as if he suspected I was an apparition of sorts.

I nodded. "Andrew--"

"If you're going to try to give me money again, I don't want it," he said flatly. Andrew turned away.

I felt as if I had been slapped in the face. I glowered at him, then seized his sleeve and dragged him away from his snickering friends.

He looked unnerved. "Lady, I don't even know you. What do you want from me?"

This is it, I thought. The official documents were wrinkled from my hand clenching them so hard. "I'm adopting you," I blurted out.

I could see the shock in his face. It started in his widening eyes, then settled as his mouth opened slightly. Then it changed to suspiscion.

Just like that day in the streets.

Shoot.

"I'm adopting you as my sibling," I said, breathless. As to why I was breathless, I had no idea. But I continued with my ramble as if I was oblivious to the scowl on his face. "I can be your older sister. Today's your birthday, right? We can go out for ice cream." I had said all of this really fast, and I could tell that it had not completely gotten its message through his brain.

In an effort to prove my word, I held out the documents. I saw him glance at them nervously. "Here. Sign these."

Andrew took a step back, looking uncertain. "You mean-- I just-- just like that? And I won't have to go back to the orphanage anymore?" he asked, his voice shaky.

I put my hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. "Yes. Just like that."

He wanted to believe me. I could see it in his eyes. He really, really wanted to. But he didn't. Not yet. My smile faded.

"You've always wanted a proper birthday, haven't you?" I asked softly. I fished a pen out of my back pocket and placed it and the documents in his trembling hands. "Everyday can be your birthday. You'll have cake and presents."

Andrew stood there motionless.

**

We were at Party City, browsing through the birthday decorations. In my mind I replayed him signing the adoption forms in neat handwriting over and over again.

"Here's the crepe paper," I said, pointing the brightly colored rolls out to him. "What color do you want?"

Andrew stopped eating the ice cream I had bought him. His eyes flitted over the many options. He turned to me shyly. "Green."

"Okay then," I said.

My new younger brother gave me a small smile.



heehee. green! that was random. review please. (: