BLIND DEVOTION : The Misconceptions of Me | B o o k 1 [EDITING]

Chapter 81: Melanie's Day

As Melanie read the notes from last night shift work, her sight instantly turned dark. Two cold hands covered her eyes. 

"Who is it?" she asked, clueless.

"Happy birthday!" Mary shouted enthusiastically in her ear while giving her a friendly hug.

Melanie snorted. "Thanks," she replied with a lack of happiness in her voice.

Mary frowned. "Hey, it's your birthday!" She shook her shoulders. "Shouldn't you be more excited than that? You look... dead."

"It's 7:50 in the morning, Mary."

"And you're working for your birthday, okay I got it." She held up her in surrender, her white smile fading to a bitter one. "But don't worry, it will be less depressing with me around. I'll do all the dirty tasks and let the easy ones for you." 

Melanie then went inside the utility room starting preparing stuff for the quick morning wash for the residents before breakfast time. On the racks were displayed white towels and washcloths, liquid soap, gloves, sheets, and other useful things.

"So, what are your plans after work?" Mary watched her as she leaned against the door, arms crossed.

"Going home, like always," Melanie replied indifferently.

"Okay... and then?"

"How should I know? It's not like I should prepare my own birthday event or whatever it is," she whispered not wanting to wake up the seniors that were still asleep.

Mary shrugged. "Why? Some people does, though."

"Well, I don't. It'll feel lonelier."

"Maybe you'll have a surprise, who knows... Mark will surely take you somewhere." Mary tried to lift up her mood as she looked pissed off this morning.

Melanie took out her notebook from her uniform pocket, along with a pen, and started organizing her day. 

"Why should he?" she said.

"Why not? Mary replied back. "You're his girlfriend."

Not officially yet.

This made Melanie becoming quiet for a moment, avoiding any eye contact with Mary as she was busy writing her tasks for today.

Mary tilted her head, searching for her attention. "What's going on?" she asked softly.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

Melanie turned around. "I hate December 7th."

"...You hate your birthday? That's the day you were born."

"Yeah... receiving phones calls from relatives you barely talk to during the entire year and listening to their 'happy birthday' wondering if they really mean it or they just do it because it's a sort of hypocritical habit or custom. Asking and telling you those same sentences... 'What have you done today? What are you doing now? Did you receive any gifts?'" She scoffed. "As if they truly cared. I haven't received any birthday cake since a long time ago because, well, we assume I don't need one and that I'll be okay with that. Past friends forgetting my birthday date unless they get the notifications on Facebook. Even so, they held parties for others, not me. I've never loved December 7th because I don't remember the last time I've been celebrated by people who cared for me. This day only reminds me that I'm not worth being celebrated. Even a single candle on a cupcake would be more than enough but... Yeah... I hate my birthday," she ended on a dry tone.

Mary had a twinge in her heart hearing her saying all of this. She had no idea she actually suffered like this and didn't know what to do about it. The lack of recognition perhaps or, even affection.