Most people that I know would say that one of the happiest day of their life is their birthday but as I said before, it’s not for me. I hate birthdays, let alone celebrating them. I guess even if I hate it, it doesn’t mean that I don’t have to walk about it at all. Birthdays are important whether you like it or not. Most people, they regard birthdays as milestones and a calculation of how far they’ve gone in life. For me, I see my birthdays as a nuisance and a curse. Every time I became a year older, I would wish that it would be the last year that I’m alive but as each year pass, I became more and more disappointed.
As if it’s not enough that none of my wishes for the year came true, it’s more devastating when I start to realise that maybe even death doesn’t want me. People would tell me, “Be grateful that you’re alive and that you have enough money to survive. Some people in the world don’t even have enough money to eat and some died when they are just babies,”. While I am grateful that I have enough money to get by, sometimes I wonder, is it really a blessing to be alive? What is there in life if all you get is misery, working day and night just to get some money so that you can live for another day, just to repeat everything the next day?
All these talks about life reminded me of the time that I ruined a birthday celebration. It was a fine day, even for me when somehow I found myself in the middle of a birthday party. The circumstances were always the same. There was someone who annoyed me and immediately, the voices in my head to me to kill him and so I did. Except for this time, I did it as fast and as painless as possible. “He’s annoying but not that annoying,” the voices said. “Maybe you can spare him the misery of living and end his life in the least painful away as possible,” they ordered me and so I followed the orders.
Of course, finding a way to kill someone without really hurting them is hard until I found an axe that was lying around for no reason. I found out later on that the axe was intended to be used later on for the one who is being celebrated to chop open pieces of wood that would somehow reveal her presents. Of course, it never happened because it took people less than five minutes to notice the father of the birthday boy missing and another five minutes for them to find his head. If I was being honest, I would say that it was the easiest yet the most enjoyable task that I was ever given by the voices in my head.
The old man didn’t suspect a thing when I ‘accidentally’ pushed him to the ground but when he saw me holding the axe, he wanted to scream but couldn’t because I was faster. That would help to explain the shocked and confused expression on his face. Of course, I hated the party and didn’t want it to be dragged on any longer. I bought the head with me to the back of the stage, where nobody could see me. Just as the organiser whisked out the birthday cake, and the wife searching frantically for her husband, thinking that he was probably cheating on her, I throw the head and it landed on the cake.
Some people laughed, thinking it was a joke but when the laughter turns into screamings, I must confess that I was beyond happy. The birthday was ruined and one thing for sure is that the boy would never look forward towards his birthday ever again. Sure, I killed someone but it turns out that the person I killed had women tied up in his basement and he abuses his older children. So, tell me, did I do something wrong? It wasn’t two years later that I found out the boy would never have another birthday party. Not because he’s traumatised but it’s because he killed himself. Instead of feeling guilty, I felt happy because I killed a psychopath and prevented someone from suffering his whole life. Surely, I deserve a medal for that.
From that day onwards, I did celebrate a birthday. It isn’t mine but the boy’s. That day, I found out that for the first time in my life, I did something good, something useful for the society and I hope that some day, they would do the same for me.
(To be continued)