Dear Diary,
Today was my birthday. I am now eleven years old. It was also Taylor’s birthday, but we did not spend it together. Today was officially the worst birthday I’ve ever had. Everything is broken and I can’t think of a way to fix it. Things went very wrong, very quickly, and then just kept getting worse. It wasn’t my fault, it really wasn’t.
I’ve been wearing Taylor’s bracelet to bed at night, the one with our date of birth engraved in the gold. It sounds silly, but wearing it felt like she was with me somehow and that made me happy. I was so excited this morning that I forgot to take it off before coming downstairs. It was a stupid thing to do.
Mum said I had to eat breakfast before I could open any presents. She thinks about food all the time and has got fat again, so fat this time that she had to cut the top of her leggings with the kitchen scissors because they were too tight. She saw the bracelet when I reached for the cereal and was calm at first, just asked what it was and where I got it. She looked at the inscription and read the words out loud. My darling girl. I didn’t want to get in trouble on my birthday, so I told her it was a gift from Taylor’s mum.
It was just a little white lie and I promised God that if he existed and made Mum forget about it, I would definitely give the bracelet back the next day. But God doesn’t exist or wasn’t listening. Mum just lost it and went nuts. Even Dad, who had called in sick again, told her she was overreacting, but that just seemed to make things worse. She told me to take it off, so I started pretending to fiddle with the clasp. Then she walked away and I thought it was over, but she picked up the phone on the wall at the other end of the kitchen.
Dad poured me a bowl of cereal but I couldn’t eat it, I knew she was calling Taylor’s mum and that this was going to be bad. My cereal crackled and popped while I watched Mum snap. Sometimes it’s hard to understand a conversation when you can only hear one side of it, but sometimes you can fill in the blanks as though you’ve heard the whole thing. She told Taylor’s mum that we would be returning her gift. Mum said she didn’t appreciate Taylor’s mum spending more money on her daughter than she could afford to, and that a child wearing jewellery was a decision for the child’s parents.
I’m not a child.
Mum went quiet then. It was as though the conversation had ended, but she was still holding the telephone to her ear, the red cord tightly twisted around her fingers. Then she looked up at me and I knew that she knew I had told a lie and it wouldn’t matter whether it was white or not. Her mouth hung open, as though she was silently saying the letter ‘O’ for a very long time. Then she said, ‘goodbye’ and ‘sorry’ and I knew I was in trouble. She put the phone down and very calmly told me not to lie. Then she asked me if I had stolen the bracelet.
I said no.
Sometimes I lie. Sometimes everybody lies.
Mum told me to take it off again. I shook my head and she started marching towards me, so I ran. Mum’s pretty fast when she hasn’t been drinking, even though she’s let herself go. She’s won the parents race twice on sports days, but she didn’t catch up with me until we got to the top of the stairs. She put her face right in my face and yelled at me to stop lying, bits of her spit landed on me, then she asked again if I had stolen the bracelet. As soon as I started to say the word ‘no’, she slapped me really hard on the cheek. Mum was yelling at me and Dad was at the bottom of the stairs, yelling at Mum, then she grabbed my wrist and yanked the bracelet.
It was only thin gold, it snapped and fell on the floor.
It was an easily broken thing.
I didn’t mean for what happened next to happen, I just wanted her to get away from me and stop ruining everything so I pushed her.
I didn’t mean for her to fall down the stairs, it was an accident.
Everything seemed to slow down and her eyes changed from small and cross to wide open as she fell backwards. She landed at the bottom and didn’t move and everything was quiet. At first I really thought she might be dead. I didn’t know what to do and I don’t think Dad did either because he just stood there for what felt like a really long time. Then she moaned and it was horrible. She didn’t sound like Mum any more but the sound definitely came from her. Dad looked really worried and said he would call an ambulance, but Mum said it would be quicker for him to drive her to the hospital in the car. I wondered if it would start and hoped that it would. Dad helped her up and she kept just moaning about the baby.
I’m not a baby, I’m eleven.
They didn’t say anything to me, not even goodbye. They just walked out the front door and drove away without looking back.
I picked up the broken bracelet and went downstairs.
There was a patch of bright-red blood on the carpet where Mum had landed, she must have cut herself quite badly. I went into the kitchen and picked up the phone. I hit last number redial, I was hoping to wish Taylor a happy birthday, but nobody answered. My birthday cake was on a plate on top of the oven. Nana would have baked a cake herself, but Mum just got one from the supermarket. It was pink with a dancer made from icing and it reminded me of Taylor’s jewellery box, which made me want to cry.
I leaned on one of the buttons on the cooker by accident and jumped back when I saw the sparks, I’m not supposed to touch the oven. Silly, really, because it won’t catch fire without matches, I watched Nana do it hundreds of times. I pushed the ignition button again and again, just because there was nobody there to tell me not to.
By lunchtime I still hadn’t had any breakfast. My cereal was too soggy to eat by then but I was hungry, so I went to the top drawer and took out the biggest knife I could find. Then I cut myself a really big slice of cake and ate it with my fingers at the kitchen table. I blew on it first with my eyes closed and made a wish, even though there was no candle. I have to keep my wish a secret or it won’t come true.
When I had finished my cake, I looked at the small pile of presents and decided Mum would be even more cross with me if I opened them while they were out. I opened one card, because it had Taylor’s writing on the envelope. It didn’t say much:
Happy Birthday!!
Love from,
Taylor
Underneath her name, she’d drawn two green circles with smiley faces. I did cry then, proper big tears that rolled down my cheeks and wouldn’t stop. I don’t think we’ll be allowed to be two peas in a pod any more.