Foggy: Ch 4

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Mere weeks after the decision to attend what will be, arguably, the most important event of your life, your birthday came around. As always, you begain to feel the familiar excitment of this time of celebration with the aid of nature. The wind grew harsher, and the rain more frequent, ussuring in the change of seasons.

Although you were born in the middle part of the year, the much cooler months, you have, against all your desires, never seen snowfall. For as long as you can remember, you have wished to see, and felt drawn to the idea of a white blanket covered ground, warm mittens and coats hugging you in protection of natures elements.

However, the environment of your city doesn't allow for this particularly beautiful aspect of nature. Your family, although they take frequent trips, have never ventured far enough in the winter for your senses to be graced with such splendour.

Sighing in thought, you wipe the fog from your window, allowing you to stare out from it as the steady beats fall down upon all outside surfaces. You watch as a dog runs from the house opposite yours to great your neighbor, whose body shakes in attempt to provide its owner even a single ounce of extra warmth.

The great golden walking ball of fluff lead him up the driveway and onto the paint peeled porch. At the door he shuffles about in harsh movements, twisting his small but old body from side to side as he filngs water all around in attempt to dry himself. The man only stairs fondly at his life long partner, chucking whilst opening the metallic panel and allowing the older of the two to enter first.

You are drawn away from your thoughts and observations as a unsteady sound disturbs the rhythmic patter. Turning, you look at your large wooden door, and it opens to the smiling faces of your parents and best friend. They great you, happiness lacing the air as they provide their well wishes and begin to celebrate. Your dad holds an array of colourful bollons and almost flys away with them as your (b/f) blows the ungodly party kazoo that hangs from the side of her mouth, smiling as she laughs with histerics at his reaction.

Your mum walks forward, handing you a cup of tea as she peppers your forehead with kisses, "happy birthday, sweetheart".

You smile warmly and embrace her offering.  Bringing it up to your face, you let the gentle, warm waves roll up and caress your cheeks as you contemplate your realty. You are now 18. You find it's not any different really, the only thing you notice is that your official status as an adult has caused a slight increase in your anxity levels. But oh well, life goes on, and a lifetime is not long enough to grow up anyway.

*

Downstairs, in your flower pattern wallpaperd living room, you sit on the dark, scratchy couch. Bringing your legs up off the floor, you pull your woolen robe around your figure. Your dad sits across from you, camera in hand and lips curved, your best friend next to him, rocking with excitment. You chuckle thinking that an outsider would asume it her birthday not yours, and you wait for your mother to come in with the last armful of presents, dumping them on the coffee table as she takes a seat besides you, draging you over into her embrace.

You open each present with slight embarrassment, well aware of how you are the object of the rooms observations. You cheeks darken every so often, causing you to deepen your breaths and tightly grip the wrapping paper as you hope to lessen your flush. You had provided little in the way of a list to your parents nor friend and as such were quite astonished by the sheer amount of presents with which your fancy was wholly taken. You recieved beautiful coats, one long and creamy brown, a pure imitation of your favorite detectives, comfortable and stylish shoes (a must have in your opinion), as well as a flurry of other great, well suiting, clothes.

As you moved on, away from the more practical items, your excitement flurished. Each book you gained, each art supply, each movie, sent a feeling of pleasure into your very being.

But none so as much as the gifts from your friend, which simultaneous sent panic and disbelief into your mind and out through your mouth, "(b/f/n) how? Why did you spend so much money?"

You paused to let your emotions catch up as you picked up the beautiful items for which your heart had desired for an extensive time. As you held each album close to your chest a sense of euphoria bubled through your vains sending silent tears down your cheeks as your lips curved to meet them, "you already bought the tickets, paid for the hotel," you sniffed wiping away your tears, "and now this. How could I ever repay you?"

At your sweet and insecure tone your goofy friend could only smile, jumping up and rushing over to pat your head in reasurance.

Her attempt at justification of her actions ultimately fell on deaf ears as you thought her mad, "its no big deal. It's a big day, and you're my best friend, of course I'd get you what I knew you wanted. Plus the concert and fanmeet and you coming with me was more for me then you anyway," she laughed lightly, "you know how selfish I can be".

She didn't stop patting your head even as you nodded to show your agreement of her last statment, still slightly unsure of the remining aspects. But either way she wasn't going to let you return or pay for any of it, so you just sighed in greatful acceptance as she pulled you from your mother's arms into her own embrace, stating to ramble out her excitmemt for the event, now only days away.

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