The Story of Sarelle: The Immortal Years {INCOMPLETE}

Chapter 13 - A Not So Happy Birthday to Me...

Hello my little minions!! I just want to say that you're not going to be happy when you finish this chapter. You'll see why when you get to the end. ~~ Emma

P.s. 315 votes for the next chapter! (: xx

__________________________________________________________

I had been reading through my old diaries when the sun finally rose on the morning of the 10th of October. For some reason my coming human birthday had triggered something in me that wanted to reminisce, capture how I felt when aging still meant something to me. In all the pages, all the words, I had never really mentioned my birthday. I barely seemed to have celebrated it. Yet, when I look back on it all, the birthdays always stand out. I can remember watching one pass me by while in the asylum and how Aslo had tried to allow me a few extra minutes in the recreation room. I could remember the Masens giving me my first diary and the sterling silver pen I still owned. There were even a murky memory of my last birthday with my parents buried deep down. I could remember the cake, a big fairy castle covered in icing and Mother's favourite violet flowers. I tried to remember what they had looked like, my parents, but the only faces that came to mind were those of the dead.

I put the last diary away in the drawer just as Aslo walked into my room humming the 'happy birthday' tune.

I smirked as I turned to see him leaning against the wardrobe with a manila envelope tucked under his arm.

"How many more birthdays is it going to take for you to realise that they don't count?" I asked with my arms crossed.

"Just one more." He grinned as he presented me with the envelope.

"You know it's very unfair that you can't remember your own birthday, otherwise I would force you to endure this too," I teased. Aslo always claimed he'd forgotten his birthday centuries ago, or more to the point he never celebrated it when he was human anyway. He continued to celebrate my birthday every year since we came together, and although I wished he wouldn't I knew there was part of him that had to. He had known me when I was human. He had seen me grow and change and become who I was today. I could only think that through experiencing that he had somehow decided that my birthdays were nothing to be forgotten.

Aslo waited patiently as I examined the envelope, running my fingers along the edges to see if I could guess what was inside. Eventually I peeked at him and tore through the paper with an eager smile.

"Aslo, this is amazing." I gasped as I unfurled the pencil portrait.

"I've had it since before we...Well before I...slipped." It was strange to hear Aslo stuttering, he was usually so concise and definitive.

"You kept it?" I asked as I marvelled at the drawing he'd done of me.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" he came and stood beside me, his hand resting on my waist. "After all it's some of my best work," he added smugly. I had to agree with him. It looked like the picture was a black and white photograph, a moment captured.

"I think it helped. I used to look at it when things got tough." His voice was so quiet it was like he was confessing something he had once refused to admit to himself. I gazed over the portrait of myself sitting at the piano and was surprised by the serene look on my face. I looked happy, or at least happier than I had ever thought myself to be. My hair was loose and ran in waves down beyond my shoulders, and the simple vest and skirt I wore flowed just as freely. Everything about the picture exuded serenity and calm. I should have felt like I was looking at a different person yet somehow I could see myself so clearly in the pencil etches. Not just because it was my face and figure drawn on the page, but there was something that rang out, something like an essence that Aslo had captured. It was something beautiful.