2 December, 1999. My 20th birthday. I was no longer a teenager. It was surreal. Fred should've been there to celebrate with me, but he wasn't. Just his portrait was. That's how it was going to be for the rest of my life—I had to learn to live with this.
"Pssst! Princess... wake up darlin'!" I heard a voice say as I pulled the covers up over my head. It was only 6a, I didn't have to be at work downstairs until 8a.
"Pssst! Princes!" The voice said again. It was Freddie.
"Yes love?.. Erm, I mean Freddie?" I rolled over and rubbed my eyes.
"Happy birthday!" He yelled through the painting.
"Thanks darlin!" I rolled over and dangled my feet off the edge. In this position, I was almost starting right at painting Fred; he was off the left slightly.
"You still look just as smashing in the mornings as I remember!" He smiled.
"I miss you.."
"I know." He smiled gently. "Georgie boy is in the living room waiting for ya!" He blew me a kiss, and I headed for the flat's living room through the paintings.
When I made it to the hallway, I saw George sitting on the couch. He lifted his head up and ran straight for me.
"Merlin, no!" I laughed as I tried to run back into my bedroom (which used to be Fred's). "Freddie! Help me!" I laughed. I heard Fred laughing like a lunatic in my room.
George lightly tackled me and trapped me with tickles. He proceeded to smack my bum 20 times this year, it was becoming a bit of our "thing."