Vampire's Misery

Why was he here?

Aastha had just come back from college when she saw her uncle enter the house. He rarely visited the house. It must have been a year since she saw him. In the 18 years of her life, not once did she see him smile. He barely talked, and whenever he came to the house, he would sit in the corner. He would listen to everyone talk, or maybe he wouldn't even listen to them at all.

"I know, it sounds quite rude, but he rarely visits us and barely talks with anyone," She thought.

Suddenly, she realized it was her birthday.

"Holly, Molly," she hit her forehead with her hand, "I forgot when I saw him,"

Today, she was turning 19, but the thing was, did he come here for her birthday? Surely no. He had never come on her birthday before. Instead, he would send her gifts with a note. Shaking her head, she went inside. He was in the kitchen with her mom. Her mom liked to celebrate her birthday, even though she was not quite into it. 

She took her time to look at her uncle who was wearing a black hoodie. Both hoodies and dreads covered his face. When he heard her coming, he looked at her. She noticed a little bit of a tattoo on his neck, which she thought was wings. He was wearing medium-sized black round ear studs.

"Last time I saw him, was there any tattoo on his neck?" She thought and realized she had never come near him to see that tattoo.

Even though he rarely visited the house, she would greet him from afar. He would give a slight nod, and then she would leave him alone. She would hear about her mom visiting him but she never asked to go with her.

Aastha pressed her hands together and greeted him in Namaskar.

"Namaskar, mama. I hope you are doing well."

(Mama means Maternal uncle in Nepali.)

"Happy birthday," He said, trying his best to smile but failing instantly.

His voice was frightening yet pleasant. For her, it felt like the first time she heard his voice because, truth be told, she didn't remember the last time she heard him speak. He looked miserable but handsome at the same time.

She thanked him, smiling, and he nodded.

Her eyes went to the back of his left hand, where there was a white lion tattoo. She remembered that tattoo from when she was small, and she loved it. It was her favourite tattoo. She stared at it for some time and then left.

The same question ran through her mind: "Why is he like this? I mean, all other relatives are so cool, you know, but him."

Once she even asked her mom if he had any problems or if he was suffering from something, but her mom would say,

"Nothing is wrong with him. Stop thinking like that about him."

Aastha was now standing in the living room. Her relatives were laughing. Her mother and her mama walked in together. Everything was ready for preparation. Her mother placed the cake on the table, ready to be cut. She noticed that everyone was excited, but there was no excitement in her uncle's face. He looked horrible like he had been living with depression. It was clear there was no fun in his life.

The celebration started. Aastha extinguished the burning candle using her hand because, in their culture, they didn't blow out candles by mouth. It was believed that fire was a god. When she was small, her grandmother, who was killed by a witch, told her once that while blowing out the candles, their spit might get into the fire.

"It's a sin if we spit at the fire," she had told her.

It was pointless for her to hear that they shouldn't blow out the candles.