The Seventh Candle (i)

Nobody attended my sixth birthday party.

I invited all my friends, yet nobody came. My older sister teased me and called me a "no-good nobody," and my mother played all the party games with me, but it didn't make me feel any better. My mother told me to quit crying, the only reason I did was because mother told me to look her in the eye, and I noticed she couldn't come up with an answer when I did. She took me in her warm embrace, the ones only mothers have, and I she couldn't lie to me, she wouldn't. She was not like father.

Father only stayed with us until my fifth birthday party. I was sitting at the foot of mother's bed, and he held two large suitcases and a single backpack slung over his back. He told me he loved me and that he was proud of me for whatever I did and whatever I'd do, like every father would, and I didn't know why. He hugged me tightly, and smiled, and I swore I had never seen him smile like that before. I heard the front door close from the hallway as I peeked out the door, and the car backing out of the driveway, and I saw my mother crying on the living room sofa and my sister only stared longingly at the front door, tears dripping from her cheeks. I did not cry, I didn't know what was happening. All I do know is that that was the last time I saw my father.

It was nearly six o' clock in the evening, and no one had even touched the birthday cake yet, if you count out the huge slice my sister helped herself to. My mother only sighed and smiled, and she didn't try to stop my sister, but instead took out a little dirty matchbox and a box of candles from her apron pocket and she placed seven brightly lit candles onto my birthday cake.

"Why'd you put seven candles? It's my sixth birthday." I ask curiously.

"The seventh candle is for good luck." said my mother. "Your grandma used to do that for my birthday parties, whenever I didn't always exactly get what I wanted or what I had planned, and it would give me some, I don't know, hope of sorts. I thought, maybe, you might want it, dear." she smiled sweetly. I could see something dark lurking in the corners of her lips, and I noticed how her eyes blinked slowly and dull, her face flushed and her cheeks drooping, but I didn't ask her anything. "Now m'dear, make a wish."

I closed my eyes tight so that all I saw was nothing, and I thought hard for what I wanted, but I couldn't think of anything. I no longer cared about my friends, for it seemed I had nothing of the sort. I no longer thought of father, he did not matter. I did not like my older sister anyway, she was never nice to me, and crying was useless because mother told me so. I thought to myself, I would wish for my mother, but she wouldn't want me to wish for her, not on my birthday. She would think a lot, and thinking too much makes her cry, and seeing a mother cry is the saddest sight in the world. Without a thing on my mind, I carelessly blew out the candles on whatever was left of the cake, and I opened my eyes to my mother's loud clapping.

"What'd you wish for, m'dear?" she asked, already cutting two slices of cake for the both of us.

"If I told you..." I began uneasily, as I stared at the already sliced cake, "...it- it wouldn't come true." I smiled sweetly, the sweetest smile a little boy could possibly make, and I took the slice of cake from her and thanked her. I always did love chocolate cake.

My sister had disappeared while I was blowing out my candles, into her room, because the door was locked shut and she stuck a sign on the front that read "LITTLE BROTHER FREE ENVIRONMENT" with a horribly drawn picture of me, which was crossed over repeatedly with an inky red marker. I sighed like every other night my sister was stubborn, every night, and I helped my mother clean up the rest of the party decorations. She tucked me into my bed later on that night, a few feet away from her own bed, and I dreamt of people attending my sixth birthday party.

It was the only reason I knew it was a dream.

***

I awoke up the next morning, to a loud banging on the door.

"Mom, mom, are you awake? Grayson, open the door please, it's really important!" she cried excitedly into the morning air. I tossed and turned annoyingly in my bed, trying to ignore her, but she refused to stop.

"Sweetie darlin', it's so early in the morning, I don't have any work until lunchtime." my mother groaned into her pillow.

"But mom, it's important!" my sister exclaimed. I stood up from my bed finally, rubbing my eyes, knowing my mother was tired enough. "Geez, Olive, I'm coming." I walked to the door and unlocked it. My sister stood above me in her green penguin t-shirt and her blue shorts, her dark hair knotted in a messy blue headband. "Grayson! Come with me." she took my arm and dragged me all the way to the front door, although I had never heard her surprised like this before, and that confused me, I complained down the whole flight of stairs.

"That hurt!" I cried as I escaped her grasp, but she wasn't listening. She pointed to a familiar looking silver car in our driveway, with a pine cone air freshener tied to the front mirror and a bumper sticker that read, "I LOVE ANIMALS" with a picture of fried chicken. I only knew one person who owned a car anything like that. I heard someone's footsteps and a man's voice humming the theme song of "Spiderman" along with the jingling of car keys.

"That's dad's car." said my sister.