❝ How did you celebrate when you were a kid ? ❞ — @hermarks
“I - I - I can not remember, exactly.”
Paxton wishes to smile at Red as they give her a heavy response. Have the lights in them still shown so they will not sadden her by their quiet honesty, what tastes of blood and ashes when they deliver it in such strange ease— nothing from a childhood, from a child’s home. ( Unwelcome home, unwelcome home, unwelcome home, [ redacted ]. ) Though should they really smile when their honesty, yet sharpened and rusting, has cut them open for her to see— through their impossible lights— a writhing thing that tries to mean innocence?… No, Paxton does not want to scare Red, that being worse for their mother to be than for her to experience sadness by witnessing more of their gentle horror, so they glance away from her then, hide the lights and hold their shaky hands on the lap, away from the colourful paper and crayons before them.
“I - I do - I do not think the kid Paxton got to cele- got to celebrate their birthday...” Whispered words quickly falling into silence, they try to recall anything from the far past, though they see their shaky hands on their lap still, bearing a blank mind, and they wonder if they had ever been a child before. ( They do not think so as they do not think they knew what a birthday was until later on in life, when they discovered it themself while they were an adult trying to learn how to be one, be more than that writhing thing stuck in them. ) “I did when I got - when I - I got older though at least.” They still can not remember anything despite them offering Red an assured smile, but their leaving words have to be true— they must be. “I think—” notice the uncertainty— the I think and not the I remember—
“I would often… just treat myself to a fun place, like a - like a museum or an amusement park. Eat lots and lots of treats in the mi- in the middle of the day and especially later on, have my vanilla and chocolate cake with sprinkles, yes! I - I also - also get myself a toy or a plushie— whatever catches my at- at- attention the most of that day— to hold onto for the rest of the day - the rest of the day… and, oh, I always wear my - wear my birthday hat because I loooveee when people smile at - smile at me and say happy birthday to me!” They pat on the paper cone on top of their head, giggling, a small light flickering in the dark. Though to find a conclusion, it quickly dies off, leaves Paxton’s gaze softening from the forming pain at the thought that they will say:
“But I - I - I would always celebrate my existence alone.”
Paxton keeps staring at their fists that are still shaking and in quiet desperation, they find Red’s hands and try to hold her, very gently, so they will not scare her away. “Plea- please do not - do not be sad, I love you,” they softly say with a continuous feeble smile, their teary eyes apologetic for being horribly honest with their response. I hope I do not hurt you too much. “I have you - I have you with the Par- Parish family to celebrate my bi- bi- birthday.” They still remember Natalie [ @vicedamaged ] getting them a breakfast of sprinkled brownies. They still remember their siblings tackle hugging them with a birthday magic show for them— Antoni as the host and Olivia with Cassandra as his helpers. They still remember Max [ @hisflaws ] taking them to a bakery store for their cake. Paxton have this with Red now, with their crayon coloured drawing of the family in question standing on a rainbow as they smile and hold each other’s hands—
“And that is more - and that will always than good enough to me, Mom.”
