Happy Birthday

The room beamed at me as I sat at the table draped with gifts. Mama had whipped up a pink vanilla cake and placed sixteen wax candles on it. The candles glowed orange as the sugary icing melted and ran down the edges of the platter. Everyone smiled, waiting for me to blow out the candles and make a wish; waiting for me to add on another year to my life; waiting for me to get older. Silence echoed in the room and shoes creaked against the wooden floor. 

“Hurry up and make a wish already!” My cousin, Tanesha said, as she broke the awkward silence and dug her fists into her sides. “We don’t got all day to wait on you while-”

“Hush your mouth, child,” my grandmother said. “You see it’s her birthday. When she’s ready she can blow out the candles.”

The room sat and waited uneasy. The candles burned and sizzled in the beautiful frosted cake. Their light illuminated the room, filled me up, made me warm and secure. I opened my mouth wide to blow out the candles but I could not blow. I could not breathe. I did not deserve to blow out the candles on this day, to grow older, to allow new changes in my life. Why did God expect me to become an adult without time to think about if I even wanted to?
            Everything happened fast. I lay dead in coffin, years from now, regretting that I had blown out the candles. My stomach churned as the room spun and my eyes filled with tears.  Tanesha leaned across the table and gave me a dirty look.

Her lips mouthed, “Hurry up already!”

In her flustered attempt to force me to blow out the candles, she ended up knocking over a cup that just happened to be on the edge of the table. It shattered and glass flew everywhere. My shoulders relaxed as the attention shifted from me to her.

 Mama reached for a broom, shoveled up the glass and threw it in the trash bag. Once she had swept it up, the attention was back on me. Grandmother hummed a tune, Mama tapped her foot, Tanesha rolled her eyes. The icing melted faster and drops of pink frosting dotted the cake.  The candles prepared to simmer down to the last speck and take their last breath. In a few minutes, the candles would have caught the cake on fire or sunk into it and smoke gray.

Mama rushed me. “Come on, Kamaria. I know it’s your birthday and all but you don’t need to keep everyone waiting this long. Come on and let’s eat this cake.”

I made my final decision. They looked at me as if I would change their future and my future through a foolish wish. I held their faces close for a moment and sighed. I did not want any of them to ever leave me; I did not want any of them to ever change. I wanted to keep them framed up in my mind forever. I wanted their warmth to spread out in between us and for us to share it. I scrunched my eyes shut.

Wishes had no true power; children just conjured inane wishes hoping to make fantasy out of reality. Those wishes maybe never came true. I bet children just grew frustrated and old while death drew nearer. My wish was simple but if it worked, it could ignite something powerful inside of me that would catch fire and illuminate me.

 “Come on,” Tanesha moaned. “Please, hurry up.”

 A chill ran up my spine. I sucked in air and puffed at the cake. I wish things would never change. I opened my eyes and people clapped and cheered. The candles smoked. I looked at everyone hoping my wish had come true, but already, the room and everyone in it, became distorted and changed.