Her thirteenth birthday had finally arrived. She was excited more than she was happy. She felt grown up; after all she would finally step into teenage life. She got out of her bed and ran towards the mirror. Standing in front of it, she gazed at her reflection, studying every detail of her body. She did not grow an inch taller. She did not shed a few inches from the waist just like she had wished for. Her hair was not how she had expected it to be, it was messy just like every other morning. She was not looking pretty at all, as she had hoped for. Her face did not have a natural glaze, unlike her friends had said. How will others understand that she is finally a teenager?
“I look the same; same old same. This was not how I thought it would be. My skin does not shine. I have not grown an inch bigger. This is just, BAD!” she grinned.
And just as she turned to return back to her bed, “Happy Birthday!” shouted her parents on entering the room with gifts in their hands, hugging her, kissing her and pampering her.
“Get dressed up for the party, dear. You do not want to be late for it. All your friends and relatives will be waiting. Hurry up!” said her mother, taking out a beautiful satin laced dress out for her from her wardrobe.
And there she was, standing in front of the well decorated garden, filled with balloons and streamers. People began to welcome her and greet her with gifts. She was finally the center of attraction.
“You look beautiful!” said one of her uncle’s, dressed formally in a pair of trousers and a decent printed shirt.
“Of course you do! How do you like the party?”
“It’s more than what I had wished for. It’s the best day of my life!” she laughed.
She was finally enjoying her day with all her mind and soul. She loved it all; the attention, the wishes, compliments and gifts. She was in love with the idea that this was her day. While she was dancing, she accidentally slipped and fell over one of her friends which resulted in a glass of juice falling on her dress, and placing a prominent stain on it.
“I’m so sorry! I did not see. I’m sorry that I spoilt your dress!”
“No, no. It is completely fine. It was not your mistake anyway. I’ll go upstairs and change into a pair of new clothes. You enjoy the party.”
While she was inside her room searching for a suitable pair of clothing, she heard a knock on the door. She went on to open it and see who it was.
“Oh uncle, it is you. What is the matter? Need anything?”
“I realized you were not downstairs anymore so I was beginning to get a bit worried. Is everything fine?” and he entered the room, locking the door behind.
“Yes, but I have just stained my dress. I need to change. So could you just wait outside till I change?”
“Would you mind if I help you with changing your dress?”
“I’m a big girl, uncle; I can change all by…”
In a moment she saw the look on his face change. His eyes were filled with rage, a lustful rage. He pushed her to the bed and forcefully lay on top of her. He covered her mouth with one of his palms and locked her hands with the other. His forceful gestures began to tear her dress apart. She tried to free herself, but she could not fight back. He was too strong for her.
“It’s time for you to make this day the best day of my life, love.”
In that half an hour, she faced fear, pain, rage, despair, hatred and disrespect. She could hear the music outside. While everyone else were having a marvelous time, she was there, lying on her bed, bruised, hurt and bleeding, while that man wore his shirt.
“That was amazing,” he whispered into her ears.
As he went towards the door and raised his hand to open the lock, he felt a sharp object rush into his neck and withdrawn again, leaving him disabled to move and to breathe. He fell on the ground, on his knees and looked behind him. There she stood, naked and bruised, with a pair of shiny scissors, bloodstained, in her hand.
“I hope I could make your last day, your best day, eh uncle?”
The music outside soon began to fade inside his ears, till he could hear it no more
“So, what do you have to say on your defense, Miss?” asked the police inspector, looking at her with eyes filled partially with sternness and partially with sympathy and disbelief.
“All I would want to say to you Sir is that, I am thirteen, and I am not a criminal.”