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Noel didn’t like his birthday. On his ninth birthday, his father hit his mother for the first time. On his eleventh birthday, he got called a faggot by his father, and so on his 12th birthday, he stopped celebrating it. His mother didn’t notice, and she probably didn’t care. She was too busy smoking and going to her aerobics classes at the mall. He didn’t tell anyone about his birthday.
The most that he would do was buy a cupcake from a small grocery store and eat it on his bed. But he only did that for two years, lately, he’s stopped eating. He needs to save up on food stamps and money. If he doesn’t then he’ll lose the house. He didn’t have much money. He was literally the only person working a job in that house. He was surviving off food stamps and the small amount of money he was bringing home. He’s given up on his dream of going to France. His mother had left to see a friend, but she hasn’t come back in weeks, so he was alone.
He was always alone.
That day was coming up, March 5th.He planned to do nothing on that day, it was a Thursday for Christ's sake. But no, he can’t stick to his normal routine everyone in the choir decided to throw him a party. He planned to avoid everyone and make sure no one can get into his house, and if that means replacing the locks, that’s what he’ll do.
He was working at the mall on his birthday, so he had more time to avoid the choir.
~~~
Constance and the rest of the choir pulled up to Noel’s house. His house was less than ideal, with it being small, but she was optimistic! Constance walked to the porch and pulled out her key. She tried sticking through the lock, but it didn’t fit. “Move I know how to pick lock.” The Ukrainian pushed everyone behind him. “How do you know how to pick locks?” The ginger questioned. Mischa just hummed in response. “There.” The door creaked open, to show a less-than-stellar house. The house was basically devoid of furniture. It didn’t really look like home. It looked like a house. She stepped into the living room, it smelt ashy like cigarettes. She briskly walked over to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and. “It’s empty.”
“Wait what?” Ocean ran up to her placing the presents on the small dining room table. “The fridge it’s empty.” “I’m going to check the pantry.” She opened the pantry. “It’s empty too.” Ricky started to snap. Constance pulled her attention away from the fridge to see what Ricky said. “Food stamps.”
“Let’s just continue to get ready for the party.”
~~~
He hated his job. He hated his manager. He hated his life.
“Hey Noel, can I talk to you?” His manager was standing behind him, a small awkward smile painted on her face that said, “please don’t be mad at me.”
One of his coworkers took over the register while he followed his manager to the back. “So, um Noel. Uh, how do I say this? Um, you're fired.”
“What?”
“Uh, I’ve gotten complaints about your mental health and some of your habits, so I think it’s best if you leave for a while and come back when you are all better.”
“This is my only source of income.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you can find work elsewhere. You can put your uniform and name tag here.” She flashed him one more awkward smile as he stormed away. He climbed into his car, pulling out a small razor blade from a deconstructed pencil sharpener. He drew shapes on his arms. Small rectangles and circles. He drew and drew until he got a little lightheaded. He grabbed a roll of bandages and wrapped his arms up. He took the longest route to get to his house. Constance’s minivan was in the driveway. Great . He pulled up right next to her minivan, and slowly got out of the car, leaving his bloody razor inside. He walked into the house. The door was unlocked. Mischa probably picked the lock. Noel trudged past the choir, walking to the bathroom. He turned on the sink faucet, taking off the bandages. The cuts hadn’t fully healed, so the blood seeped through. The water quickly turned from clear to deep red. He began to hit himself in the head. He hit one spot over and repeatedly. He dug his nails into his scalp. He bit down on his lip until he could taste iron. Then he started to cry. He had lost his job. His only job. On the worst day of the year.
knock knock
“Noel, are you okay?” He knew it was Constance knocking at the door.
He didn’t say anything, his mind was racing. Thinking about too many different things. His mom, blades, his job, his dad.
knock knock knock
“I literally just got fired so can lay off for like two seconds.”
~~~
‘Oh.’ “Noel, can you open the door? I made a cake for your birthday.”
“I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore.” His voice was so quiet it was almost like a whisper. Ricky walked up to her; she shooed him away. “Why don’t you celebrate it?”
“Because when I was nine my dad hit my mom for the first time. And when I was eleven, he called me a faggot. So, I stopped celebrating it.”
“Wouldn’t your mom notice.”
“Constance, she hasn’t been home in weeks. She’s been at a friend's house for a month and a half. I just- I don’t know how I’m going to pay the bills since I lost my job and-“
“Noel, you shouldn’t be thinking about these things.”
He sighed. “I know.”
“Can you open the door now?”
The door unlocked; she took that as an invitation to walk in. His arms were covered in cuts, blood slowly flowing out of them. “Oh, honey.” He picked at his arms, digging his nails into the cuts. “Where are the bandages?” Noel pointed to a cabinet. She grabbed the roll of white bandages and began to wrap his arms in white. After she wrapped his arms in bandages, she hugged him. He cried into her shoulder, trembling.
“You can stay with me; I know my parents will be okay with it. Do you want me to stay with you?” He silently nodded.
~~~
His mother never came back to their house. This time Noel wasn’t alone. He had the choir.