At Least Out Loud

Wake up.

Turn off (aka throw alarm clock across the room. )

Get dressed.

Brush Teeth.

Ignore parentals.

Go to school.

The normal Monday routine. This morning, however, was a bit different. My birthday.; the day I turned 18.

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Monday, November 8th.

He barged into my room, first remembering to cower behind the door to avoid any time-telling devices that may have been propelled his way, then proceeded to enter my room.

“Gooooooood Morning Sunshine! Man-oh-man is it a wonderful morning in Atlanta, Georgia. The sun is…not…out…” He said, as he peeked through the window, realizing the gray clouds floating over head. “But the clouds are! Protecting you from those harmful UV rays. How nice!”

I laid in bed, stuff as a brick, only turning my head to see what the commotion was about.

“Awww, com’on Rickie! It’s your birthday! Get up! Live it up!” He paused at the sight of my eyelids slowly drifting back together, my head still facing his direction. “Get off your God-damn ass! You’re 18! Older than me by a mere three days, two hours, and forty-seven minutes…” He’d mumbled the last part in a harsh, hushed tone. I was surprised that he hadn’t gone as far as seconds to milliseconds.

“ Wes, it’s five-fricken-thirty in the morning. What the hell are you doing awake?! Better yet, in my room, ordering me around, and giving me the update on today’s forecast?”

He smiled a wide, cheesy grin, and walked over to the side of my bed.

“It’s not everyday my little girl turns 18!” he retorted, as if he’d answered the question a million times.

The line echoed inside my brain, as I quickly hid my head under the sheets, remembering the last time he had said the phrase.

It had been my 16th birthday, and he had done just as he had today; barging into my room, unannounced (until he did so himself), and disturbing my sleep. He said he had a present for me, and that I should cover my eyes, and try not to act too surprised.

I’d spent the remainder of that morning, chasing him out of my house, and attempting to get all the whipped cream out of my hair.

“What, do you think I’m dumb enough to do that to you again? Sorry, I don’t plan on spending an entire lunch period cowering in the boys bathroom again. You made me miss Nacho Day. Nut-uh. Not happening. That was the only time ever that I had missed it. Never again, I tell you.”

He plopped down next to me on my bed, showing me his non-whipped cream pie hands, with an pleading face. “See? They’re empty.”

I peeked out from my covers to see if I had been told the truth, which I had.

“Okay, Mr. I’m-awake-all-the-time. Get out so I can get dressed.” He stared at me with a raised eyebrow.

“What? No birthday suit?” He hurriedly shuffled out of my room as I made a move towards him, screaming at him while doing so.

“That’s it! Beat it! Shoo pest! Leave me be!” Wes stopped down the hall, and turned around, his face featuring his infamous pouty face.
“Oh don’t give me the puppy dog face. Leave that to Brendon Urie. He’s a pro.” He flicked me off while sticking his tongue out at me. I returned the favor and shut the door.

By the time I’d gotten dressed, and put my unruly darkened brunette colored hair in a pony tail, the ruiner of sleep had returned.

As I approached the kitchen a chorus of “Happy Birthday” erupted. On the kitchen counter sat a lone vanilla cupcake, topped with red icing, white sprinkles, and a single candle, burning bright. The spoiled birthday ritual, spoiled by none other than the screeching crow caw’s of the people who claim to have brought me into this world, had finished. (It was a wonder where I had received my vocal talent from.)

My parents, still in their bath robes, showcasing overjoyed faces smiled at me and waited me for me to blow the candle out so they could turn the lights back on.

I took a deep breath in, only to be held in by Wes’s hand covering my mouth.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” he proclaimed. He began to remove his hand, but smushed it back onto my face. “But be careful what you wish for.” He unattached his hand from my face, and walked back over to his spot on the counter.

I closed my eyes, and thought of a wish.

I wish that people will actually honest with me for once. For someone to speak nothing but the truth to me. Ha, cant wait for this to happen..

The smoke whisked above the now extinguished flame. I pulled the candle out and snatched the cupcake off the counter.

“Thanks Mom and Dad! Adios para ahora!”, which means ’bye for now’. (Spanish was my favorite class.)

My mom and dad exchanged worried looks. “Oh geeze. Get over it. Yes, I’m 18. I know it seems only yesterday I was snuggling between you two on stormy nights. Yes, you’re that old. You’ll live, I promise.” I gave them a smile and a wink, to let them know I was just fooling around. Their mouths returned to smiles, and I followed Wes out of the house to leave for a horrid Monday back to school.

“Karen, I think we should wait to at least tomorrow to tell her. Today’s her birthday. Let’s not ruin it for her.” Her dad explained.

“Fine, but the later we wait, the worse it’s gonna get.” She gave him a warning look, and walked off to prepare herself for work.