If I Wake

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BirthdayIt’s the night of my eleventh birthday when I first meet Will, although in that time, he is known as Wu. I don’t have a time machine, nor do I leave my room. I simply fall asleep and don’t wake until I die in Will’s world. So how can I explain my physical presence in a place I’ve never seen, in a time before I’ve even been born?

Wu believed he summoned me, but that doesn’t explain the other times. The doctors’ tests come back negative. The psychiatrist implies I’m dreaming. The school counsellor asks if I need to access free tutoring sessions, and Mum says I’m making it up for attention, but she could just be repeating what Frank thinks.

Is it all in my head? If it’s a dream, why can’t I transport myself to Will whenever I need him? Sometimes I think back over that day for clues how it happened, but I come up blank.

I want a big eleventh birthday party like other people have. Throughout the year I hear the girls at school talking about how many presents they collect at their parties and I have visions of the gifts I might receive. One from every person who comes, wrapped in colourful paper and tied with pretty bows. People will want to talk to me because I am the birthday girl.

Mum says I can invite all my classmates. We sit up late each night for a week with scissors, glue and pencils to create the handmade invitations. Some people buy them from the shop, but Mum says these are more special. I admire the way they look with our drawings of cake and presents on the front and each one addressed individually.

I’ve never been invited to other parties, but I imagine what it will be like. Mum promises to bake me a cake. The day after we finish our works of art, I walk importantly through the classroom as I hand each person their special invitation.

Rachael decides she won’t come. She has beautiful long blonde hair that swings when she walks. I’m not pretty like her, so I can’t be her friend. I know, because she told me so. My hair is dark brown, which contrasts with my greyish-green eyes Grandma calls ‘witchy’. I don’t want to look like a witch. People like girls who look like princesses.

Rachael tells me she doesn’t want to catch any germs from my house. Her friend Sarah says she will think about it if I give her my tartan hair ribbon. Grandpa gave it to me and it’s the only pretty thing I own, but I want Sarah to be my friend. I give it to her.

The next day, Sarah tells me her mum won’t let her come to my house. I ask for my ribbon back, but she keeps forgetting to bring it to school. Eventually I stop asking for it. Mum yells at me when I tell her I lost it. She says I’m irresponsible and how is she meant to trust me alone in the house while she is at work, if I can’t even look after a ribbon.

Jennypha starts a rumour there will be no party food. She tells everyone we will be serving brussel sprouts. I don’t expect this to stop Tayla from coming, but she tells me she is going to be at Jennypha’s house that day. I know she is lying to me as she twirls a strand of hair around her finger. Jennypha always goes to Tayla’s house, not the other way around. I shrug and pretend I don’t care. They will be sorry they missed it when everyone is talking about my birthday.

I expect some of the boys will come. They like free food and there is going to be cake. Saturday arrives and I’m still hopeful for a great day. A few people are undecided and I know they will show up. Tayla might change her mind and bring Jennypha with her. Sarah might have found my ribbon and come by to return it.

I put on my best green dress and Mum puts the flower clip in my hair that is her present to me. I look at myself in the mirror and when I smile I almost look pretty, despite my ‘witchy’ eyes.

I help Mum blow up a couple of balloons to tie to the front fence so everyone knows it’s my birthday. We even have a couple of bags of chips, chocolate and two whole bottles of soft drink for my guests.

I watch by the front window as the party draws near. I check the clock on the wall, shifting from leg to leg as the start time comes and goes. No one appears.

I worry people haven’t been able to find the house. Mum assures me they will see the balloons. She suggests I eat something while I wait, but I refuse to touch the food until my guests arrive, even though my tummy is beginning to rumble. I want them to see all the good treats we have out for the party.

By the afternoon I come to the conclusion there’s something wrong with me. I will never have the latest toy to show off at school. I’m not pretty like Rachael. No one wants to be my friend. I’m an invisible nobody.

Mum comes out of the kitchen singing ‘Happy Birthday’ and carrying a pink frosted cupcake with a single candle. She promised to cook me a real cake like the girls at school have. I’m glad no one is here to see. I’m eleven years old today, not one.

“My life sucks. I wish I’d never been born,” I yell. She has tears in her eyes, but I can’t take the words back. My birthday has been ruined. I storm off to my room where I curl up on my bed and cry.

A while later, Mum knocks on the door. I pull my pillow over my head, muffling her words as she tells me she has to go to work. Our neighbour will look in on me later. I lie still, refusing to respond. I know the routine. It is not that I don’t like Mrs B from next door; I just don’t like being treated like a child.

When Mum leaves, I come out from under my pillow and peek out the window. Two of the balloons on the fence have popped and hang sadly by their string. I crawl back into bed, drifting into a restless sleep before Mrs B arrives.