Birthday disasters

Growing up birthdays were always a disaster. It seemed a curse hovered over my head. As every year rolled around I’d lie in wait fretting about what would happen next. The first time I noticed my supposed curse was my 7th birthday. I had received a disgustingly large banana cake. Keeping mind I utterly despise bananas. From then on I kept my eye open, scanning for potential threats. Unfortunately, that was the least of my birthday misfortunes.
The earliest I can recall was my 5th birthday. Cuddling into Pinky Shake I drift in out of deep sleep. Outside the rain pours as if predicting how my birthday was going to be. It drives against the house in sheets, searching for a way to seep inside. Little did I know this stormy weather was going to be the catalyst of my misfortune. Getting up the next day. I bubble with excitement bounding into the kitchen. Upon arrival mum grimly informs me that the floods had worsened. We had to cancel. That day I didn’t even see my dad. He was distracted as usual. Too busy aiding the unfortunate souls who were bellowing in surprise. That was just the tip of the iceberg. Just as the wind swiftly flew up, my birthdays swiftly flew by, most having their own little disasters.  

We sat in the car, the cheeky bastard is still laughing although the rest of us are scared to death. I learnt a lesson today, playing rugby inside isn't actually a good idea.  Although I ended up realising that the hard way. My brother slipped on the carpet and I watched in horror. Everything slowed down. A sick thud rings through my ears. The silence seems to stretch for eons. His shrill cry burst out of the silence causing a flurry of movement in which we all rush to his aid. 
The blood trickles in crimson waves dripping down his face. Like a leaky faucet, it wouldn't stop. Off we went. Scurrying into the car, we rush to the local emergency clinic. Above his eye lay a cloth splotched in crimson. My fingers shake, holding his hand in mine. My eyes dart from side to side, imagining various scenarios. The gloomy weather outside mirrored my mood and as we got closer, the swift wind begins battling the exterior of the car. Another birthday flew by stained with little disasters. My 9th was just another to add to the list.

I sat in the car bouncing with excitement. We were just returning home from lunch out. Perched at the end of my seat, I eagerly await the moment I can leap out of the car. Tensing my muscles up I prepare to bolt up the stairs. Claiming victory against my brother for the race to my room. We slow to a halt and quicker than the flash I unbuckle my belt and tear out the door. A high pitched giggle escapes my mouth as a slam echoes through the street. Soon I hear footsteps smack against the footpath. He attempts to catch up to me. His giggles joining mine. Suddenly he stops and turns back rushing to the car. With sheer joy I leap forward, my bound rivalling the greatest gazelles. That’s when I hear it, a shrill wail erupts from behind me. I almost tripped over in shock. Pivoting around with wide eyes I discover my brother hunched over his hands. Blood drips slowly onto the ground. Time seems to slow down. My mind can’t seem to process what’s happening. I try to run but my feet feel sluggish. My movement felt as pointless as Sisyphus pushing his rock up the hill. Nothing worked, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t complete my action. I couldn’t get to him.  Glancing at red spatters on the ground woke me up and I stumble my way over. His cry turns almost animal, a guttural sob escaping from his lips. Bill rushes up to him, wrapping a cold cloth around his fingers. We rush back into the car and head towards the place we most frequent.  The A&E. Rushing towards the emergency department rain begins spattering on the window. I drift off on an ocean of thoughts unprepared for the 4-hour wait for x-rays that awaited me. 
I constantly hear people wishing their birthdays were more attention-grabbing and not always so boring. I’m the opposite, I walk through the day begging for a slice of normality. Stressing about the constant excitement every year brings. Getting stuck in an endless cycle of playing perfect, no matter what disaster strikes me down. Except now it seems I’ve finally learnt. Every new disaster that strikes I know just what to do, I know what to say. I know how to control the situation and the people in them. Every birthday has taught me an important lesson. How to be stronger without others' help.  Strong like the ocean's steady beat against the cliffs. Let’s just pray my next birthday brings some sanity to my life. It probably won't, but what's the point of sunshine without a little rain.