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My sixth birthday was a day to remember. It happened at my house, where everyone came to my birthday carrying many presents. But that’s not what I was looking at. My face was stuck to the window I was looking out of, searching for his car. My face seemed glued to the window. I didn’t move a muscle, even though I was itching to go look at the presents. I stayed in that place, still looking out the window and looking at every single car, not trying to miss one. I was also looking at the driver’s seat, looking closely at every face that passed by my window. I looked at every car significantly as the moment became more and more anticipating. As the time passed longer, I yearned for that car and for that face. I didn’t stop looking and kept trying to recognize the familiar white and red striped car. I was also looking for the guy that made it possible for me to be alive.

I was hearing all the laughter outside and I smelled that delicious strawberry chocolate cake that I chose myself. But all I was thinking about was my dad and my sister. Their aura was still with me, surrounding me in that tiny and packed room. Finally my mom came and told me to go outside and say hi. I just stared at her and slowly moved towards the door, just to be blasted with all these happy and joyful feelings.

I smiled a little, receiving all the presents that people stuffed in my hands. People came to me, kissing me in my cheek and wishing me a happy birthday. I just stood in one place, nodding like a robot and sat down in a pink chair. Soon, it was time to open the presents. The table holding all the presents was right next to me. I looked at it closely, the amount of presents filling me up with such a strong feeling of joy. Then, at the far right corner of the table, a present caught my eye. It was wrapped in light-green gift wrap and had a yellow bow on top. I ran quickly to this present and grabbed it.

There it lay in my lap, when I started to wonder who it was from. I looked for a tag, but there was none. So I just ripped everything up, the sound being like glass falling to the ground. It was a brown and black book bag. Next to it was a completely white envelope. I took it and opened it slowly, my hands trembling. I recognized the neat handwriting immediately. It was feeling sad just looking at it. I read it and it said that he was sorry for leaving me there by myself. He said he was sorry because he took my only sister when I needed her. He said he was sorry so many times that I actually started to believe in him again. He did not say sorry for leaving me with a mother that wasn’t doing too good. He didn’t say sorry for not giving my mom money all this time that I was growing up, and he did not even say sorry for not being there when I needed him. I read about how it was going for him and my sister, how much he missed me and how much she missed me. The thing he did not mention was how he hurt me leaving me at the age of 4.

He did say that he would come visit me some time soon, but I knew that time would not be soon at all. My tears came down quickly, as if the tears had become a waterfall. The air around me was suffocating me with all these feelings of sadness. The tears kept coming down uncontrollably. I shook slightly, not making a single sound and staying in one single place. My mom grabbed me, tears coming down her eyes too. Everybody just looked at us sadly, the party ruined because of a stupid letter written by a father that left me at a young age, never to come back again. I stood up slowly, wiping my tears up. I walked to my room and sat down, looking outside the window, still waiting for my dad to come and explain everything. My mom came into the room and said, “See? I told you he wasn’t going to come.” I just looked at her, shaking my head. “He usually does come,” I said to her, glaring. “Stop trying to make up stories,” is all that she replied. I returned to my position, staying there for the rest of the party.

By Brenda M.