✘𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘✘

4.4K 187 33
                                    

-CELEBRATION-

TWO YEARS HAD PASSED, three more to go

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

TWO YEARS HAD PASSED, three more to go.

It was your birthday today, the day you turned ten. You never imagined as a child spending it in a medical ward, but you weren't sure how you managed to remember the date after all these years, either. But you were glad you did; It was the last ounce of humanity you had left- and you decided to celebrate the occasion by singing over a serving of mash and peas.

"Happy birthday to you..."

"Hip-hip" You scooped the mash with a rusty spoon and stared at its fluffy texture, dreading the moment you were forced to chew.

"...Hooray"

A sad silence followed soon after your deflated 'hooray', the emptiness in your heart ringing clear. The rumbling of medical machinery served as your applause as you took a bite. It was stale, just like it had always been, but you took comfort in the small heat the emanated from the mash. The medical ward had always been cold from what you could tell, so to find warmth was rather rare-perhaps a new blanket that wasn't a centimetre thick would fill that emptiness.

The joy of the meal quickly dissolved as the heat faded, subjecting you to its original, tacky form. You cringed as the potato swirled in your mouth, finally swallowing. It felt wrong forcing yourself to eat such terrible food, but you had to. It was either that, or they'd force it down your mouth. Dying from starvation was one thing, but having a person strap you down and pry your mouth open was another.

You let out a sigh, This was upsetting. In your village, birthdays were always regarded as a widely-celebrated, important tradition. Banquets filled with delicious food and drinks would line up the dining table in your past home, as songs rejoicing the day would dance in the air through giddy smiles and happy conversation. Birthdays were the celebration of new life, of decay, and of maturity. To not celebrate was to wish bad on those who's day it was, even if you yourself didn't care. But of course, majority of the Kara probably didn't even remember your name, so you doubted they remembered nor cared about your birthday.

Party favours were your favourite besides the cake- the explosion of multicoloured confetti looked like magic as it pranced in the air. With a small hand you would grab at the coloured paper and chuck it in the air again, wishing to see it dance for you once more. You adored bright colours, so perhaps that was why you were so drawn to it. But either way, your parents would stock up on as much party poppers as they could, all to please their little happy girl.

But now things had changed. You were left alone to rot in a medical ward, hands aching with each passing day and humanity breaking bit by bit. Your clan, as beautiful as it was, was now a stale, decaying memory that will soon be lost to time. They were all either dead, or sold off into slavery like you.

Suddenly, a warm, wet sensation trickled down your cheek. You brought a hand to your face and gently caressed the area only to find that you were crying. Rapid, swift tears poured from the little crevice in your eyes shamelessly. A teardrop hit the side of your plate, and another simply ran down your chin and hit the side of your gown. This always happened when you thought about how life used to be. It was simply because you missed it more than the world.

You wanted to see your mother again; the proud, beautiful, feisty woman she was. Though you could not remember her voice, her face would forever be engrained into your memory- and that was because she liked to flaunt it so. Your mother was the villages gem; her silky hair was always done up in a ponytail, displaying her gorgeous amber eyes, and like fire, golden specks of them would shimmer in the sun- their own naturally-crafted sparks of ash. She was wonderful, wonderful in the way she'd always make sure to tuck you in at night, or show you around the village whenever you were bored. Now that you think of it, she probably just wanted to show the world her daughter, being the proud mother she is.

Your father was all for her boasting, for he too treated you like a gem. Though your father was more modest with his words, he always made sure to ruffle your hair whenever you'd come for his attention or smile at the flowers you brought him. He was always busy being the number one doctor of the village, so that was probably why you couldn't remember him as much as your mother- all you knew was that he had shiny silver hair, and eyes that you could not remember. Even now as you reminisced on the past, you were debating his appearance. Was the silver from his hospital uniform, or was it his hair? You weren't too sure, and that upset you even further.

It was ironic nevertheless. To think that the daughter of a famous doctor would despise anything to do with it- especially with your ability.

It was a tragedy, really.

'As soon as I get out of here, I'm never going to touch another hospital in my life' You poked at the mash 'I'm going to find my clan, and I'm going to save them. And I'll do it without the help of this stupid jutsu!'

You bawled your free hands into a fist, happy with your conclusion 'Yeah, this jutsu is a curse that will never be used again, even if my body suffers the consequences.'

It was going to be hard surviving off scraps when you escaped, but the idea of freedom in itself was enough of a motivator for you. It didn't matter that you'd have to sleep in foreign terrains, or travel to nations you never knew or understood of, but you were determined to get stronger at your own accord, and once you did, you'd find all of the surviving clan members in your family.

Imagining a birthday cake instead of your mash, you made a wish in your head, before pretending to blow out the candles.

'I wish to see my family again.'

'

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 | ❏ 𝘒𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳Where stories live. Discover now