Life of a teenager

CHAPTER ONE Lia was a beautiful seventeen-year-old girl, deeply loved by her parents but often misunderstood by her friends and even those closest to her. She was a girl of true nature and strong beliefs. Though admired by many and often caught in the gaze of young admirers, she never once accepted a proposal. Lia wasn’t proud — only grateful. As her eighteenth birthday approached, her mind returned to one of her greatest fears: the painful memory of what had happened when she turned fifteen. That day was among those she could never forget, yet she never shared the story with anyone. The morning of her fifteenth birthday had been bright and cheerful. Sunlight streamed through the curtains of her small but cozy room, painting golden patches across the floor. Lia woke up with a smile, stretching her arms as excitement filled her chest. Fifteen, she thought. I’m fifteen today! She slipped out of bed quickly, humming softly as she straightened the sheets. Her heart raced with anticipation. Any moment now, Mom will call me to the kitchen, maybe with a surprise. And surely Dad will call first thing this morning. The smell of fried eggs and bread wafted in from the kitchen. Lia hurried to wash her face, brushed her hair neatly, and slipped into her favorite dress — the light pink one with small white flowers. She wanted to look perfect on her special day. Her younger siblings were already playing in the sitting room when she stepped out. They were laughing, chasing each other, and arguing over a toy. Lia stood there for a moment, expecting one of them to shout, “Happy Birthday, Lia!” But none of them did. She forced a smile and walked past them. Maybe they’re pretending… maybe they’re saving it for later. At the dining table, her mother was serving breakfast. “Good morning, Lia,” she said casually, handing her a plate. Lia’s heart skipped. No “Happy Birthday”? Not even a hug? She swallowed hard and smiled faintly. “Good morning, Mom.” They all sat down to eat. Her siblings chattered about school and games. Her mother reminded them about chores. But not a single word about Lia’s birthday was spoken. Each passing second felt heavier. Inside, her chest tightened. Did they really forget? Or are they planning a surprise? She glanced around, searching for hidden balloons, maybe a cake box somewhere. Nothing. All day, Lia waited. She smiled whenever her siblings looked at her, but her eyes grew duller with every hour. When the phone finally rang in the late afternoon, her heart leaped. It must be Dad. He always remembers. He’ll save the day. Her mother answered the call and handed the phone to her. “It’s your father.” Lia’s face lit up. She pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello, Daddy!” “Hello, my princess,” his warm voice came through. “How are you all doing today? Has your mom been taking good care of you?” Her excitement faltered. He sounded cheerful, but there was no hint of recognition in his tone. No special words. No “Happy Birthday.” “Yes, we’re fine,” Lia whispered, her throat tightening. She glanced at her mother and siblings, hoping they would say something — anything — but they didn’t. Her father continued, “I miss you all. I’ll be back in a few days. Make sure you help your mom at home, okay?” Lia’s lips trembled. She could no longer hold it in. A tear slipped down her cheek. “Daddy,” she choked, her voice breaking. “Today is my birthday. All of you forgot. Nobody wished me.” There was silence on the other end. Then her father sighed softly, regret in his tone. “Oh, Lia… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize today was the 12th already. Happy Birthday, my darling. Daddy loves you.” But the words felt late, like rain after a drought. Her mother looked guilty. Her siblings glanced at each other, surprised, whispering among themselves. Lia burst into tears. “For a whole year, I have never forgotten anybody’s birthday,” she cried bitterly. “But mine was forgotten by everyone. I never expected this to happen.” She dropped the phone onto the table and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her. She collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow. Her sobs shook her shoulders as the weight of disappointment pressed down on her. For hours, she lay there in silence, listening to the muffled sounds of her family moving about the house. At one point, her younger sister knocked gently on the door and whispered, “Lia, I’m sorry, I didn’t remember…” but Lia didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The pain was too raw, the wound too fresh. As the evening stretched on, she pulled out a small diary from under her pillow — the one she had kept hidden for months. With shaky hands, she opened to a fresh page and began to write. “Dear Diary, today is supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, but it has turned into one of the saddest. Nobody remembered my birthday, not even my mom, not even Dad. I kept waiting all day, hoping for a surprise, but the surprise never came. I smiled, but it wasn’t real. I cried, but no one noticed. I always remember theirs, yet mine was forgotten. I don’t know if I’ll ever forget this pain, but I know I’ll never let myself expect too much again.” Her tears smudged the ink, but she kept writing, pouring out everything she could not say aloud. When she was done, she closed the diary and pressed it against her chest, whispering into the quiet night, “From now on, I will remember myself, even if nobody else does.” The house grew still, the laughter of her siblings fading into sleep. Only the faint hum of the ceiling fan filled the silence of her room. Lia lay on her bed, eyes wide open, replaying the day in her mind. She remembered birthdays when she was little — how her father once brought home a small cake, how her mother sang with a smile, how her siblings clapped and laughed. She compared those warm memories to today’s cold silence, and the difference pierced her heart like a knife. As midnight approached, she made a silent promise to herself: that this day would never repeat. If her family forgot her once, she would no longer depend on them to make her feel special. She would learn to be strong, to celebrate herself, to find happiness within her own heart. Yet deep down, the little girl in her still longed for the love she had been denied that day. That night, as she finally closed her eyes, a single thought echoed in her mind — one that would stay with her for years to come: “If they could forget me on the day I was born, maybe I don’t matter as much as I thought.” And with that painful belief etched into her heart, Lia drifted into a restless sleep, never knowing how deeply this forgotten birthday would shape the life of the teenager she was becoming.