Behind Those Doors

It’s her birthday today. A happy occasion. 9 years old. Everyone in her class was celebrating, but for another one of her classmates, whose birthday is today as well. This little boy who shared the same birthday as her was in a suit, pretty leather shoes, and a hat. Aloysius. He’s handsome. She thought to herself. Then she looked at herself. Old dress, torn shoes, dirtied hairband. But it’s okay, it alright, at least I’m alive. Then a couple came into the classroom. It’s his parents. Tears welled up in her eyes. She watched on, as the many well wishes and presents were given to the boy.

Finally the day ended. No one knew it was her birthday, and it was alright. She never celebrated her birthdays anyway. No one celebrated it for her after her mum left this world 4 years ago. Her mum died when she was 5, and she could hardly recall any memories of her. How much can a 5 year old remember anyway?

“Claire, let’s go.”

A voice comes from behind her, which sent shivers down her spine. No, I don’t wanna go home. Please. She didn’t turn around.

“Claire.” The stern voice came again.

A teacher walk passed, “Claire, your daddy is here, time to go home! Be good, and I’ll see you tomorrow dear!”

The walk back home was one with heavy steps. Everyday, her dad would pick her up from school. And everyday, she dreaded going home. She tried running away from home once, but got caught, and she never dared try again. So she went home with her daddy. Every single day. Ever since her mum died 4 years ago.

She went straight to her room once they got home. She locked the door. And headed to bed.

“Claire, open up.”

“No. Not today. Please.” She begged.

“Claire. I have the keys to your door, so we either do it the easy way, or the difficult way.”

“Please daddy, please.”

“Claire, I’m not gonna say it again.”

She started tearing, slowly moving to open the door. Her father came in, and the doors closed behind him.


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